


Shadows in the Mind

by ArtemisRae



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Established Relationship, Gen, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-07
Updated: 2007-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 18:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 100,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRae/pseuds/ArtemisRae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after the war is over, the world is finally settling into an uneasy peace. When the Avatar and his companions disappear into a swamp in the southwest Earth Kingdom, they find themselves fighting not only for their lives but to prevent another war from breaking out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Totidem Verbis

**Author's Note:**

> Well… this is the first chapter. This basically sprung from rewatching The Swamp on Nick and realizing that it really could have been a lot darker. So I decided to write that. Also, I felt a general desire to write what some of the politicking may be like once the war is over, though that doesn't take precedence in the fic.
> 
> The main focus of the fic is Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph and Zuko, but there's going to be a lot of appearances from different characters. Azula, Mai and Ty Lee are in here. So are General Iroh and King Bumi. I also made up the backstory and futures for a whole slew of minor characters, and have also created two OCs with minor roles.
> 
> Shadows is in canon up through The Library and The Desert - so basically about halfway through Season 2. I had assumed when I started writing that Zuko and Iroh would join the Gaang to teach Aang firebending and builds from there.
> 
> This fic does feature a relationship between Aang and Katara. There may be another pairing or two thrown in later, but that will be in the author's note for that chapter. There will also be angst. The rating does go up in later chapters due to some violence, but for now it's pretty mild in the beginning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People talk, people party, and Aang takes a step forward.

Toph lay, casually stretched over the small green couch in the receiving room. Anyone who glanced at her might think she was relaxing. Anyone who thought she was relaxing would be wrong. Powerful repetitive vibrations were interrupting any possible chance she might have had of slipping into a peaceful nap before the organized chaos of the evening started. She reached the end of her rope quickly.

"Will you _stop pacing?_" she snapped. The vibrations stopped momentarily.

"How are you _not_ pacing?" Katara snapped right back. "We don't know what's going on! We should be in there with them!"

Toph sighed. Aang had explained this to Katara hundreds of times, and if Aang couldn't get through to her Toph didn't entertain a single thought of trying to make her understand. "You're not a leader. You're not a representative for a leader. And most importantly, you're not a guy. Neither am I. Therefore, we stay out here."

"I could be a leader, if they weren't being so sexist!" Katara was getting herself worked up again. Toph hoped she calmed down before the men came out of the meeting; Aang was stressed enough without Katara nagging at him.

The two were patiently waiting in a receiving room outside the conference room in the great palace at Ba Sing Se. Leaders from all over the world had gathered to discuss terms for a peace treaty that was to be signed by representatives from all four nations. The location of Ba Sing Se was symbolic: it was the one place the Fire Nation had never broken into; therefore it was the one place the Fire Nation would first step into peacefully. Not to mention that the difficulty traveling there meant that those who did attend were truly sincere in their intentions.

Zuko, now the official Fire Lord, had left his unstable nation in the hands of his Uncle Iroh. The fact that the Fire Lord himself had come out to the conference and had not sent a representative had impressed other leaders, which both irritated and pleased Aang. They would be more willing to listen to Zuko's concerns and not dismiss them as the Fire Nation trying to stay ahead; however, Aang had a hard time believing that anyone who had met the formerly exiled leader even in passing could ever doubt his sincerity.

Master Pakku and Hahn had traveled from the North Pole to represent the northern water tribe. Sokka had been selected to represent the concerns of the southern water tribe – much to Katara's resentment. King Bumi had been asked to attend for the western Earth Kingdom, but had declined due to his "growing frailty" and offered to send his heir, Bao.

He then showed up anyway, to everyone's surprise but Aang's. The caravan, pulled by two of Flopsie's pups, had pulled up in front of the palace and Aang was there, with a room prepared and ready to greet the king. "Found some strength in those old bones, Bumi?" Aang had asked wryly as he'd held out an arm to help the king from his carriage. Bumi had offered no excuse, only a typical snort.

Toph was there because Aang had specifically gone out of his way to ask her to join them. He had appeared at her earthbending academy about two weeks before and asked if she would accompany him, Katara, and Sokka out to Ba Sing Se. Aang had carefully explained that he felt that if there was trouble with negotiations, a "feminine touch" might be needed. "So you want me to trap them in a rock coffin until they agree?" she'd asked. Aang had winced.

What Aang hadn't explained was the second part of her job, which was babysitting Katara. There were strict rules forbidding females into the conference rooms, which naturally infuriated Katara. She had offered to sit as a representative of the Southern Water Tribe – how could they tell her no then? But Sokka had stepped up and explained the _he_ was the actual representative. It was an hour before Aang had found Sokka iced to his bedroom ceiling and got him down.

When all else had failed, Katara had turned to Aang. The complete unexpected had happened: Aang had sided with the Earth Kingdom, and begged Katara not to make too much trouble. "Please, let's just make peace between the nations first. Then we can work on everything else." Katara had then relented, though part of her felt betrayed by Aang's refusal. Toph knew this because Katara had explained it to her over and over as they spent the week of negotiations on the outskirts.

Toph's patience with Katara was nearing an end. Luckily, before she could resort to anything drastic, a door popped open from the wall, and the six figures who had been debating for the last week entered the receiving room.

"Well?" Katara asked loudly, but she was ignored as five of the leaders simply walked through to the hallway and disappeared towards their various rooms, leaving Katara and Toph alone with the last lonely figure: Aang. He collapsed on top of the couch across from Toph. "Well?" Katara repeated her previous question.

"A basic agreement. We have a basic agreement." Aang mumbled into the cushion. Toph sat up, grinning. Katara squealed and dropped to her knees in front of him, pulling him into a hug.

"So what does this mean?" asked Katara.

"It means we _party!_" a voice from behind them said. Toph turned her head at the sound of the voice: Sokka.

"Our fine host has just announced a feast in honor of the signing of a historic peace agreement. Can you _imagine_ the _food_?" Sokka wiped a bit of drool from the side of his mouth.

Aang frowned. "Can you imagine the itchy formal clothes we're going to have to wear and all the hands we're going to shake? We'll be lucky if we get to the food."

"That's why I carry this around," said Sokka airily, waving his machete. "If anyone gets in my way…" he mimed the consequences.

Katara just shook her head. "You just signed a _peace_ agreement."

"Please. You would have fought every single one of them if it meant you could have gotten into that room." It was a low blow and everyone knew it. Toph hit her forehead. Katara merely gritted her teeth and Sokka gave her a cheeky grin before leaving the room again.

"Don't be mad at him," Aang said as soon as Sokka was out of sight.

"I'm not mad at him," Katara replied sharply.

"You really are, and you shouldn't be."

_"I am not mad at him."_

"Katara, look at your hands!" Toph interrupted. Katara looked down and saw that her hands had been replaced with blocks of ice. She blushed and melted the ice away.

"It doesn't matter," she said softly. "The peace agreement has been signed, and now we can all move on."

 

* * *

 

As Aang had guessed, the leaders were far too busy shaking hands and making modest statements to get to any of the food. Sokka was very disappointed, and Katara made a great show of savoring dessert as he and a diplomat discussed trading with the Earth Kingdom in front of her.

Aang plopped down in the seat next to her. "Cinnamon pudding tarts?" he asked excitedly. Katara handed over her fork without hesitation, crossing her eyes at her brother who nearly broke down in tears in front of her.

"So what's the plan from here Aang?" she asked, reaching out and wiping a smear of pudding from the corner of his lip.

"Well," he started, still chewing the tart. "Specifics need to be hammered out. This was only a tentative agreement. It'll work for the time being, but details are going to have to be worked out between individual nations." He paused before muttering, "Hopefully they won't need me for that."

Katara grinned. She often forgot Aang was only seventeen and shouldering this never-ending burden. He did his duty without fail, but when it came down to it, if he could get away with riding elephant koi fish all day, he would.

This peace treaty was the culmination of five years of tumultuous work. Whether it was getting the Earth Kingdom to trust the Fire Nation enough to meet with them, or coaxing the Water Tribes out of their isolated locations, Aang had been working non-stop.

"Do you think it'll settle down now?" asked Katara.

"All the leaders seem willing to cooperate. They're all in positions to benefit financially from some of the possible agreements that have been discussed a little bit. I think it'll take something big to start the fighting again." He reached out, distracted, and pulled on one of the flowers holding her hair up.

"Don't!" she said, swatting at his hand.

"It's crooked!" he insisted. She smiled and ducked away.

They were interrupted by Bumi and two of his advisors. "Aang, do you think you would have a moment to discuss setting up a safe route with Lord Zuko?"

Aang gave Bumi his brightest smile. "I wish I could help you there, Bumi, but I'm afraid I have a very important commitment right now that I can't break." He stood up, taking Katara's hand. "I owe my betrothed a dance." And without another word, he swept Katara onto the wide dance floor.

He pulled her close, one arm around her waist, the other traveling up around her neck and playing with the end of the braid wrapped in a tight woven bun.

"Betrothed?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. They had been a couple for several years but nothing had been made official yet.

"Yeah about that," Aang said softly, tapping the pendant at her neck. "What do you think of that?"

She saw that he was holding her mother's necklace. Her hands flew up to her neck, and felt a new necklace there. Suddenly she realized that he hadn't been playing with her hair, he had been tying the new necklace around her neck.

Katara looked at him in disbelief. "Really?"

"I told you," he said, wrapping his arms tightly around her and burying his face in her hair, "it looks like things will settle down a little bit now. Maybe we can settle down a little bit too."

And Katara did what any typical young woman does when she gets engaged: she burst into tears and threw her arms around Aang's neck, drawing him into a kiss.

Behind them they heard Sokka's whine. "Katara, that's inappropriate!"

 

* * *

 

It _was_ inappropriate. At least, that's what Sokka kept insisting to anyone who came over to give their congratulations and stayed for more than one minute.

He had known this day was coming. He had known even before Aang had approached him, tripping over his words and blushing furiously while clutching the slim piece of blue leather. The kid had been so excited about the necklace that Sokka didn't have the heart to remind him that the Southern Water Tribe didn't bother with betrothal necklaces. Besides, he knew Katara wouldn't care anyway.

And she certainly didn't, judging by her smile and the way she and Aang swept across the dance floor, unaware that there was anyone else in the room.

As soon as he saw Aang pull the little necklace from his pocket, he had abandoned his conversation with the Earth Kingdom diplomat – rather rudely, though he wouldn't realize it until later – and found one of the servants carrying the large wine skins.

Most of the rest of the night passed by in a blur. Vague memories would come to him later that he would squash down into the recesses of his mind with all possible force; swinging Toph out onto the dance floor, before realizing that it wasn't Toph he had grabbed but one of the poor servant girls who'd been attempting to refresh the desert plates; betting Bumi he could jump from the two-story balcony and land on his feet; losing the bet to Bumi when he jumped from the two-story balcony and landed on his head – in the fishpond; his forfeit to Bumi for losing their bet – this memory was probably the vaguest of all. There were flashes – a red faced Zuko, a stinging pain on his cheek, and dirty looks from both Katara and Toph.

He ended up alone on an outside patio, slouched down in one of the cushiony chairs that the king favored.

"Well look at what we have here."

Maybe not so alone. He turned his head and found himself eye to unseeing eye with Toph. He felt a surge of affection towards the girl. He often thought of her as his unofficial younger sister who had the sense not to go off and fall in love with the Avatar. Except this one chucked rocks instead of ice when he ticked her off.

"The party is starting to break up. Aang and Katara are looking for you."

"So?" He was beyond caring at that point. All he wanted was to sit and look at the stars and the moon. Especially the moon.

"So I told them you were sick and went to bed. I didn't want you to wander in there and show them I lied." She paused, before asking; deadly serious "Are you happy for them?"

Sokka was insulted she'd had to ask. "Are you kidding? Look at them!" he gestured sharply, smacking his arm off the back of the chair. Nursing it, he continued, "They're ridic- ri – really really happy. Isn't that what we fought for?"

Toph didn't respond, and Sokka let his mind wander as he stared at the moon again. "I coulda married the moon," he murmured, rubbing his eyes.

Toph knew full well the story of Yue. She stood up, taking Sokka's arm. "You should probably get to bed. You're going to be hurting tomorrow."

He allowed her to pull him up and lead him to his room. Strangely enough, he felt no shame in leaning against her for support as the room spun around him. Sokka knew they had to make a funny picture: the tall warrior leaning against the much shorter blind girl.

"Don't tell Aang," he whispered conspiratorially. Toph didn't say anything, but he saw her ear twitch, indicating she was listening. "But we don't use betrothal necklaces in the south."

That got Toph's attention. Her mouth twitched, an amused smile threatening to break out. "Really? What do you do in the south?"

"Well-" he cut himself off for a moment as he and Toph turned a corner, making the world tilt dangerously. "We prefer an exchange of seal blubber."

Toph let out a genuine laugh and opened his bedroom door.

He had a sensation of falling before his face was buried in a soft pillow. Toph had just pushed him down on the bed.

"I won't tell Aang," she promised.

"Good," he mumbled, face smashed into his pillow. As soon as he closed his eyes, he was asleep.

 

* * *

 

Miles away, looking at the same stars the Avatar and his betrothed were dancing under, lay a wanted criminal. Azula knew she should try to get some sleep, that she would have to be up early because _someone_ had to make sure Mai and Ty Lee were up and prepared to move on in the morning.

The three of them had been on the run since the Avatar had defeated her father. She had now been living in exile for two years longer than her brother had, and the irony was not lost on her. Azula had not adjusted easily; she had been destroyed after her father's defeat, and unable to cope. They had fled on a merchant's ship – there were still some loyal to her, after all – to the Earth Kingdom.

Ty Lee was the only one with even a slight idea of how to live in the real world. Mai ended up taking charge of caring for the broken Azula. This did not last long.

Azula knew she was not the type to be kept down – she just needed the right opportunity. She still dreamed of the war room with the large throne and the beautiful flames. She still dreamed of people casting their eyes down when she looked at them and bowing low when they approached her. She knew there were those out there who were loyal – who wanted a strong hand ruling the Fire Nation and not the complacent weakling that was her brother. These dreams were what fueled her, what kept her going despite the years and the distance between her and the throne.

She had to submit for a little while, but she always knew it was temporary. It was only a matter of finding the right opportunity. She wasn't willing to risk the lives of Mai and Ty Lee by sneaking back into the Fire Nation - but if Zuko was going to come right to her, then she was going to take advantage.

The first rays peeked over the hill side, and she knew it was time to go. Returning to the small cottage where they had taken refuge, Azula picked up the pillow she should have been sleeping on and threw it at Ty Lee.

"Get up! Both of you! We're leaving today." She prodded Mai with her foot, forcing the girl to wake up.

"Azula, we promised to finish the harvest," Ty Lee said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"The harvest will still be here. My brother will only be stopping in Omashu for a short time." She had only heard the news yesterday. The farmer couldn't understand why Azula's face had turned bright red at the news of Fire Lord Zuko in the Earth Kingdom to sign a peace treaty. Cursing the fact that news traveled so slowly to the southern tip of the kingdom where they were staying, Azula had immediately made plans to travel north. Though there were many small villages dotting the coastline, she knew that the official entourage of the Fire Lord would make a stop in Omashu, to kiss up to King Bumi and replenish supplies. She had missed their entrance; therefore, she would catch them on the way back.

She had to. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for.

"Pack up," she said to them. "We're going north."

 

* * *

 

Sokka did not feel well. In fact, Sokka felt extremely ill. He woke up in the bed he had been given in Ba Sing Se's palace and immediately wished he hadn't bothered. Pulling the pillow over his head, he lay as still as possible and debated whether his nauseated feeling was from the amount of alcohol he had imbibed the night before or the fact that Katara had officially gotten engaged the night before. It was definitely a toss up, he decided.

A throbbing started in his head, and he groaned out loud before realizing it wasn't just in his head; it was because someone was pounding on his bedroom door. He rolled out of bed and landed on all fours on the floor. The stone door chose that exact moment to be blown inward. Sokka let out a yell and scrambled for blankets to cover his underwear.

Toph yawned. "Please Meathead. Who do you think undressed you last night?"

Sokka growled at her. Toph remained unimpressed. "Get up. We're meeting for breakfast in five minutes. There's been news from the Fire Nation."

He pulled on his tunic and wandered down the hall, trying to find someone he knew. What he found was Aang rushing down the hall holding his pack.

"Hey!" he called, but Aang didn't even hesitate. Luckily Katara wasn't far behind. She was also carrying her pack along with her bedroll.

"Hey Sokka," she greeted him. He fell in step with her.

"What is going on? Where are you going?"

"We received word from the Fire Nation that General Iroh is sick. It doesn't seem life threatening, but he's so old that they wrote and asked for Zuko to return home right away. Aang and I are going to take him back on Appa because it's faster."

"Is Zuko okay?" Sokka asked. Katara responded but Toph, rushing by him also carrying a bedroll, distracted him. "Hey wait – is Toph going with you guys too?"

Katara nodded. "It's not like we can take all his guards with us, so we're all going to go."

_We're all going to go._ These words clicked with Sokka. "Am I going too?"

Katara grinned at him. "Go pack your boomerang. We're grabbing breakfast and leaving immediately."

Sokka turned on heel and started heading back towards his room. "If Toph had just told me that in the first place…" He stalked back to his room, muttering under his breath.

 

* * *

 

They were running. They had been running since Azula had forced them from bed at sunrise. The sun was shining directly over them, and as much as Ty Lee loved the feel of the sun on her shoulders, it was currently making her sweat uncomfortably. She forced herself to focus on her steps, on the rhythm, instead of the heat or the shooting pain in her side…

A sound interrupted her reverie. Turning her head slightly, she confirmed her first instinct: Mai was wheezing.

"Azula we should break for some lunch!" Ty Lee called out.

"We don't have time." Azula didn't even look back.

As pleased as Ty Lee was at seeing some fire in her old friend again, she was irritated at her stubbornness.

"Azula, we need to stop. We've been running all morning and I'm _hungry._"

There were several tricks to being friends with Azula. Rule One was that Azula was always right. Ty Lee was an easy-going soul, and generally did not have a problem with this rule. Rule Two was that Azula was always better than you. This was also not a hard rule to follow. Pull a few punches and you're in. Rule Three was to be good at something Azula had no interest in, and therefore an asset to her. Ty Lee often thanked the spirits that she was flexible and that Azula had no interest in bending that way, so to speak.

But Rule Four was the most important, as it applied only to her and Mai. Rule Four was Azula always hates babies. When they were younger, Ty Lee had engaged Mai in endless debate over which of them was going to end up raising Azula's kid, if she ever had one.

The point of this rule was that if Mai and Ty Lee had been carefully following the previous three rules, Azula would actually cave rather than kill them if they acted, as she put it, like a baby. Ty Lee knew the exact way to pitch her voice, the exact amount of whine to put on "hungry", and it worked. Azula slowed, then stopped and turned to her companions.

"A short break," she agreed. "We cannot sit long. We have to get to Omashu as quickly as possible."

Ty Lee took the pack from her shoulders and started digging through it, looking for the dried meats she had packed earlier. "What do you even plan on doing Azula? He's going to be surrounded by guards."

Azula smiled. "Agni Kai. He won't be able to say no. It's what I would have done if I had gotten to the temple in the first place."

The final battle was something rarely spoken of. Azula had learned that her brother and uncle had taken the Avatar to the temple to fight her father. She hadn't counted on the Avatar's three companions – the Water Tribe siblings and the blind girl – ambushing them as they ran to intercept the traitors.

The three girls ate in silence: Azula lost in her thought, Ty Lee worrying about those thoughts, and Mai polishing her knives in boredom.

"Once I get my brother I'll get the girl," Azula broke the silence. Ty Lee just looked at her.

"Who?"

"The waterbending girl. I don't want the Avatar. I want her. She's the reason I never made it to the temple to stop my brother in the first place." There was a spark in Azula's eye that Ty Lee hadn't seen in a while. It was the devious light that meant Azula was planning and felt confident. It had disappeared the day Ty Lee had shaken the Fire Princess until she had stirred in the middle of the charred field where they had battled. By then the defeat of Ozai was well known, and the three of them had been placed on the list of wanted criminals.

Azula was completely broken. Ty Lee and Mai had called in a favor from a classmate at the Fire Academy and gotten on the first possible ship out of the Fire Nation. The next three months were hellish. Defeat had made Azula physically ill – she spent much of the time in a delirious fever, calling for her father and refusing to eat or sleep.

They had taken refuge in the first village they had come to. Ty Lee had stolen some Earth Kingdom clothes from the first house she could sneak into and the three of them had camped out in an abandoned shop. They had no money or supplies, and the one person who usually took care of them and led them was incapacitated. It was the most shaken up Ty Lee had ever seen Mai, who wasn't sure what to do except to throw herself into taking care of Azula.

Ty Lee, drawing on experiences she had from the circus, went out and found a small job selling fruits. It was a nice job – the older couple who hired her were pleasant, and the stand was by the entrance to the village, which meant that they were busy enough to keep Ty Lee from being bored. She had felt bad when they'd ran away as soon as Azula was well enough to travel.

Discussing the final battle or the three months that followed fell under Rule One. Azula didn't like to talk about it, and Azula was always right.

 

* * *

 

"They _what?!_" the outraged cry filled the hall where the leaders should have been engaged in dinner.

King Bumi sat silently, though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. The Avatar, the Ladies Toph and Katara, and the warrior Sokka, all disappeared along with Fire Lord Zuko? It was unthinkable that the Avatar should abandon the conference he had spent over a year arranging and working on – Bumi knew how high the stakes were and how hopeful Aang was for this to go well. Why put it in danger? And why was Lord Zuko gone too? Was it possible they had left together? The entire hall broke out into whispers. This was a serious scandal.

The murmurs were interrupted by a second advisor slamming through the door, pushing a whimpering servant girl in front of him. He pushed the girl down, and she bowed on all four before the leaders.

"The girl knows where the Avatar and the Fire Lord have gone to."

"Is this true?" the king boomed angrily. The Avatar disappearing from his house was a major insult to his hospitality.

"Fire Lord Zuko received an urgent message this morning," sniffled the girl. "I delivered it to him. He said his uncle was sick."

"Lord Zuko said he received a message saying General Iroh was sick?" Bumi repeated.

"I don't know for sure that's what the message said. He never opened it," the girl told the floor.

"Child, that story makes no sense."

The girl looked up, wide eyed and clearly terrified. "I knocked on the door and handed him the message. He took it, went pale and said that he knew his uncle was sick and that he had to get home. Then he pushed past me. A short time later when I returned to make up the Avatar's bed I found that his room was completely empty."

Bumi looked at the advisor who had brought the girl in. "Did Zuko leave behind this urgent message he received?"

The advisor nodded. "Yes sir. I retrieved it from Lord Zuko's room." He held it out for all to see.

The official Fire Nation seal was unbroken.

 

* * *

 

"General Iroh?" A voice startled him out of his thoughts.

"Cai." Iroh raised his hand in greeting. "Isn't it awfully late for you to be out of bed?"

The young man simply smiled.

"I was going over some paperwork involved for setting up open trade routes across the nation. I wanted everything to be in order when Lord Zuko returned from his trip."

"You and my nephew will both work yourselves to death. No wonder he favors you of all his advisors."

Cai blushed at Iroh's compliment. "My family will be pleased to hear that, General."

They were quiet for a moment, out on the balcony overlooking the Fire Nation capital.

"General Iroh? Surely you have to be up early for meetings?"

Iroh smiled to himself. The boy was too polite to come out and ask why he was still up.

"Come young man, and sit with me. Do you play Pai Sho?" Iroh gestured to his board, which was set up as if two had been recently playing on it. The basic shape of the pieces formed a sharp arrow facing east.

Cai's face turned bright red. "My father has taught me the basics, but I would be no match for a master such as you."

"The basics are more than my nephew has learned. I cannot convince him to learn the rules. Sit down, Cai. Sometimes, when I have trouble sleeping, I meditate with my Pai Sho board. I will ponder things that are troubling me and play my pieces at random. And I'm always surprised at what I find when I finally look at the whole board."

"Does it work?" asked Cai in awe, looking over the current layout.

"Would you be relieved to learn that the temporary leader of the nation found the answers to his questions in a board game?"

Cai's blush deepened. Iroh was pleased – he had seen that shade of red many times before on his own nephew's face.

"So what does this mean?" Cai asked tentatively, pointing to the tiles' current layout. "What were you thinking about?"

"Lord Zuko and the progress he was making." Iroh fingered his lotus blossom tile. "There is only one piece left to be placed. I would like you to do it, please."

Cai's eyes went wide; this test was unexpected. Iroh smiled encouragingly at him. "Please."

Cai considered the board seriously for a moment, studying the tiles and where they had been laid. He then confidently laid the piece down straight in the middle of the board, and looked up at Iroh hopefully.

Iroh gave him no signal regarding the placement of the tile. There was a tense moment, as Iroh contemplated the tile, where Cai felt a flash of fear that he had done something wrong. It passed as soon as it hit. Iroh looked up and smiled at him.

"I appreciate your help, my boy." Iroh stood and bowed to him. "I cannot keep you awake any longer. You should get some sleep."

Cai stood and bowed back. Iroh was too polite to just ask him to leave.

As soon as he was out of sight, Iroh returned to the Pai Sho board, studying the layout carefully. A sharp arrow pointing east, towards the Earth Kingdom, and the White Lotus right in the middle of it.

"Zuko, my boy," sighed Iroh mournfully. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totidem Verbis: In So Many Words


	2. Lapsus Memoriae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang tries to rush Zuko back to the Fire Nation, Azula and her gang are on the move, and several world leaders are very confused .

It was late into the evening when they finally stopped and set up camp. There was a short-lived debate over whether or not they should find some village to stay the night in, but the idea was quickly dropped. Zuko wanted to get back to the Fire Nation quickly and quietly. Stopping somewhere meant announcing that the Fire Lord and the Avatar were traveling somewhere, alone, without any guards. It was too risky – the Fire Lord, despite all his good intentions, still had some enemies in the Earth Kingdom.

So “quickly and quietly” translated into “roughing it.” Sokka had complained, of course. Several years of being welcomed into any home with a soft bed had erased the months he had spent sleeping outside with Aang and his sister.

Zuko didn’t mind. Zuko was used to roughing it. The large bedroom with the huge feather bed felt more uncomfortable than sleeping outside in the cold. In a way, living in comfort made him feel weak.

It was the double-edged sword of leading the Fire Nation. His years of exile gave him valuable experience and great inner strength. It meant he was powerful and charismatic when dealing in the interests of the Fire Nation, but also sympathetic enough that he wasn’t entirely threatening: imposing, yes, but never threatening.

However, sometimes he had to remind himself that he no longer lived in exile. The palace he had inherited from his father, so to speak, was not a good fit for him. Zuko preferred the smaller estate near by, where the beds weren’t so big; there weren’t eager servants at his every call, and no one panicked if he slipped out to walk under the stars for a little while.

But his uncle had insisted: the palace was where the Fire Lord lived. The palace was where court was held. The palace was where citizens of the nation expected him to be.

“You are making many changes for good, but you must keep some things that are familiar to them. You do not want to move citizens from their comfort zone too quickly. The palace is a symbol that is comforting to them.”

“They associate it with a madman.” Zuko had answered curtly.

“You must make changes from the inside out, Lord Zuko.”

So Zuko had. It had involved ripping apart much of the palace. Gone where the large stone halls and dark rooms that were overbearingly hot. Zuko had created a court with windows, where the sun could shine in and give power and strength to his people.

His subjects _saw_ his face when they came to court. And they hardly ever flinched anymore.

It was something that had taken him a bit of time to get used to – it fell under the whole strength-of-character thing from exile. What was once a badge showing his cowardice had morphed into a symbol of his will to live. At least, that’s what his uncle had told him the first time Zuko officially held court and could feel every single pair of good eyes focusing on his one damaged eye.

_Uncle_… Zuko was grateful to the Avatar for getting him home. The illness was clearly defined as not life threatening and yet why would they bother sending for him across the world if his uncle had simply caught a case of the sniffles?

He had accepted long ago that part of life was losing people you loved. He had lost his mother to death. He had lost his sister to the powerful element they both controlled. And he had lost his father to his sister.

But his uncle… his uncle was constant. His uncle, Toph had once remarked, was a rock. He was steady. He was always there. In the back of his mind he always knew that the day would come when his uncle could no longer guide him, even if he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it.

It hurt more to think about during the night, when there was nothing to distract from the squeezing pain in his chest. The stars provided little distraction – because his uncle had taught him how to read the stars. Meditating was useless, because who had sat with him patiently while he attempted to learn the breathing exercises? His sleep would be restless, because his dreams would be haunted by the smell of tea and the clinking of porcelain Pai Show tiles.

“I am lost without him.”

Zuko hadn’t realized he spoke out loud until he heard Sokka’s groggy voice calling out in the darkness, offering him the map.

* * *

So they were taking advantage of another poor farming family – so what? Ty Lee had confessed to her the night before that she was starting to feel guilty, but Mai couldn’t seem to make herself care. How else were they going to take care of themselves as they got to Omashu? It wasn’t like they could get jobs or anything. So they took the only other option: they abused the hospitality of the Earth Kingdom families who were opening their doors to the three young helpless girls who just needed a warm meal and a soft bed for one night only. They were simply doing what they had to do.

Ty Lee sat next to her, twisting her braid nervously through her fingers. Azula must have asked her to steal something when everyone went to sleep – lighter clothes, maybe some food that would stay good while they spent the next few days traveling through country that didn’t have any residents.

Mai didn’t care about the peasant family, or about dinner, or even about where they were sleeping that night. Mai only cared about getting herself and her friends to Omashu in one piece, and figuring out how to care for Azula, whatever the outcome of her encounter with Zuko.

If she was successful, Azula was going to have to fight for her throne. Zuko only had the support of the entire world, including the Avatar. Mai was afraid Azula would need someone to watch her back.

If she wasn’t successful, Azula was going to know defeat for only the second time in her life. Mai was afraid Azula would lapse back into the wounded animal she’d had to take care of for months after Ozai’s defeat.

She found peace in her knives. She’d been taught how to meditate at the Fire Academy, how to calm herself and detach herself from the world – in fact, she was remarkably good at it and she knew it – but nothing brought her peace like the rhythm of working a small rag over the knives, going over them again and again until they shone, until her warped reflection was as clear as it was going to get.

Her knives gleamed brighter than they had in years.

During dinner they discussed travel plans with their hosts. They had been planning on cutting across some of the northern lands to save time, but the farmer and his family were horrified at the thought.

He brought out a map and unfurled it in front of them. The coastline of the Earth Kingdom was dark green. The farmer pointed out where they currently were – southwest of Omashu, near the coastline – and where the northern lands would take them: a large black splotch on the map.

“What does that mean?” Ty Lee asked, peering closely at the parchment.

“It’s a swamp. There are always some odd things going on there,” the old man explained. “People go in there and don’t come out. The ones that do come out end up babbling like idiots and making no sense. It’s certainly not a place three young girls like you should be traipsing through.”

Mai felt a stab of irritation at the implication that they were helpless. She turned and looked at her two friends, who were leaning over the old man, studying the map closely. Azula looked at Ty Lee and gave a barely noticeable gesture of the head. The message was clear: _take the map tonight also_. Ty Lee bit her lip and gave a sharp tug to her braid.

Mai didn’t care about the map. She only hoped Ty Lee thought to grab boots when she went through the house tonight. She certainly wouldn’t do well in a swamp in the slippers she was currently traveling in.

* * *

They were silent as they flew over the Earth Kingdom. Zuko was worrying about his uncle and in no mood to talk. Aang was pushing Appa as hard as he would go, and was totally focused on the passing landscape and the passage of time. Katara and Toph were quietly retreated to the corner behind Aang, ready to respond at a moments notice. Sokka had fallen asleep, snoring softly and drooling on Momo, who was curled around his shoulders.

Aang was taking a southern route in an attempt to avoid the large desert that contained many painful memories. They would eventually curve west and fly over the southern half of the Earth Kingdom before flying over the sea to the Fire Nation. Even with Appa flying as fast as possible, the trip would still be several days long – they had to give the bison a chance to rest before flying him over the ocean.

Despite the noticeable tension, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was the silence of five people who knew each other well enough to know that there wasn’t any need for words right now. Katara lay on her back, watching the clouds passing by above them. Her wandering hand found its way to her neck, and she played with the new pendant hanging from it.

Her mother’s necklace was carefully packed away at the bottom of her bag. She hadn’t decided what to do with it – save it, perhaps, for any children Sokka may have. The one Aang had made for her had an unexpected weight – he had used a different material than that of her mother’s. It wasn’t unpleasant. It was just something she wasn’t used to.

She ran her fingers over the intricate carvings. Aang had clearly spent a lot of time on it, and she wondered where he had found that time, with everything else he was trying to do. The necklace also explained how secretive he’d been lately. She had originally chalked it up to nervousness about the conference, but when he’d refused to appeal on her behalf to the king to let her in on negotiations, she had worried it was something more.

It didn’t matter how happy she was to be engaged, how thrilled she was to officially start her marriage with Aang – the conversation from the previous week played like a loop in her head.

Sokka had just ruined her chance to get in as a leader. She vaguely regretted stringing him up the way she did, but he would understand she just needed to get her anger out. And it wasn’t like he’d been up there a long time.

“Aang, you can talk to the king. Tell him I need to be in there. I’ve been a part of this whole process so far – me and Toph shouldn’t be left out at this point.”

They were picking at dinner in a private chamber connected to Aang’s bedroom (as an officially non married couple, protocol demanded that the two be given separate rooms, even if Katara ignored hers). Aang was distant to begin with, and whether she desired to see him connect or was just hungry for a fight, she would never know. But her last ditch effort to get in on the conference was Aang intervening for her. It stung her pride to ask, but Katara knew she belonged in there, and she knew Aang understood that.

Which was why she’d been shocked when he had looked at her and said quietly “Katara… I’m not going to fight them on this one.” A wave of cold surprise had washed over her, leaving her arms tingling with embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

Aang was bright red, and he’d rushed what was obviously something he’d rehearsed. “It’s just, we’re going to be arguing over every single point the next few days. I don’t want to argue about this. I think we should just focus on this conference and working out a deal for now. Let’s make peace between nations – then we can work on everything else.”

Katara had looked down at her hands, a worm of disgust twisting its way through her stomach. “You’re right. You have too much to be worrying about to pick a fight about this.”

Aang had closed his eyes in relief. “Thank you.”

She did understand his point. She really did. But that didn’t stop her from sleeping in her own room that night, away from him and the irrational shame she felt.

“Are you okay?” his voice interrupted her thoughts now. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Aang was twisted around on Appa’s head, holding his pack, eyes trained on her. He’d been looking for food.

“I’m fine, why?”

“You’re flushed.” She just shook her head; she felt fine, and he shrugged and turned back around to focus on their destination. They continued on in silence.

* * *

The Fire Nation had underestimated him. Again. Bumi had figured after the whole “moving right into Omashu without a fight” thing had come back to bite them on the tail coats that he would get a measure of respect in their eyes.

Bumi was downright insulted by the idea that the Fire Nation soldier currently hiding in his room thought that Bumi didn’t know about him. He was even more insulted that this Fire Nation soldier honestly thought he would be able to sneak up on Bumi.

But what insulted Bumi the most was that the soldier was hiding _in his closet_ in his _favorite_ purple robes. They were going to smell like sulfur for weeks, and Bumi didn’t have time to get them cleaned before he wanted to wear them again.

As he walked back to his room he gave two sharp taps against the wall before walking in. There was a loud crash that shook the floor, sending tingles up Bumi’s legs. He walked through his bedroom door to find the wardrobe hiding the soldier laying flat on the ground, its doors pinned shut.

Bumi pulled up a chair and contemplated the wardrobe. Normally this would be an excellent situation for him to enjoy himself – he’d had many years to perfect his practice of messing with people. But he was tired, and he was worried about Aang.

The whole day had been a disaster. The remaining three leaders had argued over what action to take. Should they call everything off? Should they make some sort of public statement about the situation? Should they just retreat and pretend nothing was happening?

In the end, the king was far too embarrassed and furious at the situation to make any sort of decision. The fact that it had happened on his turf was unforgivable and he couldn’t think straight enough to do anything. Bumi had taken charge. He’d sent out three of his fastest riders to seek news or sightings of them. After much deliberation, he’d also decided to send a message to the Fire Nation. If it was true that Zuko had left to care for his sick uncle, then he would arrive before the message and there wouldn’t be a problem.

It was the other possibility that made Bumi nervous. If the Fire Nation received word that Zuko had gone missing in Earth Kingdom territory, the entire world could be plunged back into war. This depended on just how ill Iroh was – because he of all people would seek to avoid a war – and who was taking his place until Zuko returned. Zuko was a kind and good ruler, but there were still rumbles, still endless whispers from those who hoped that the dangerous Fire Princess would return and restore what some saw as a former glory.

The missing Avatar was also a complication. Bumi knew he was loyal to the Fire Lord and considered him a close friend, but would he really desert the conference that was supposed to be the pinnacle of his work?

It was pointless to ask. The answer was yes. The Avatar was nothing if not the single most loyal person Bumi had ever met, and it worried him that this honorable trait could have landed him in trouble.

Ever since the boy had wandered back into his court, looking like the day he’d left left, Bumi’d had nothing but faith in him. People in his court whispered – _the Avatar is back? He’s still just a kid? He doesn’t even know waterbending yet? How can he possibly beat the Fire Lord?_ – but Bumi had never once doubted. He’d sent the kid off into the great big world, and though he always kept him in his thoughts, he’d never _worried_ about him.

So this whole disappearance thing weighed heavily on Bumi’s mind, not only because of the circumstances, but his reaction to the circumstances. There was something off about the whole deal, and he couldn’t help but feel as though his friend had gone off into great danger that should have been easy to avoid.

Bumi knew there was nothing he could do to help Aang at this exact moment, but he could deal with this Fire Nation soldier who was suffocating quietly in the stone wardrobe. Sighing, he gestured quickly with his hand. The back of the wardrobe exploded out, and a mass of purple and green robes lunged out of the stone box. When the poor soldier had finally worked his way out of the robes, he was greeted by the old king of Omashu, offering out a steaming cup.

“I hear you people like tea.”

* * *

They smelled the swamp long before they approached it. The three girls camped out on the outskirts, deciding to first venture in during the light of day. Azula was flitting around camp, grinning and pouring over the map, recording their progress. Mai had apparently shined her knives as bright as they were going to get, because she had moved on to sharpening them. The slow rhythm of stone against metal soothed Ty Lee a bit, calming some of the anxiety she felt. She lay with her back to the swamp.

She didn’t want to go in there. Actually, if she was going to be honest, she was terrified. She’d been all over the world – through the Earth Kingdom, through the southern islands above the South Pole, all over the Fire Nation, and she’d seen some things that would make a lesser soul weep for his mother. Nothing had reached into her soul and scared her the way the swamp had the first time she laid eyes on it.

Ty Lee had frozen still, staring at the black mass before her. Azula and Mai had ignored her, until they had started to set up camp.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help us?” Azula had demanded. The question barely registered with Ty Lee.

“How far are we from the coast?” asked Ty Lee, distracted. Azula just stared at her.

“Too far. You aren’t suggesting we go a different way, are you?”

At Ty Lee’s slow nod, Azula had let out an annoyed snort. “It’s not going to happen. This is the shortest way to Omashu.” She waved the map angrily at Ty Lee, whose nervous fingers absently reached for her braid, wrapping it around her hand and tugging softly. Azula sighed. “Stay here with Mai while I search for something to make a fire.”

She stalked off towards the edge of the swamp. Ty Lee’s eyes went wide. “Where are you getting wood? You aren’t going in there, are you?” Azula spun around, her eyebrows furrowed at Ty Lee’s high-pitched voice.

“Why does it matter where I get wood? Do you want to sleep cold tonight? It’s not like there’s anything here to stop me.” Ty Lee bit her lip to keep from snapping a response. Azula had no patience for her tonight. It was times like this that Ty Lee was grateful that she had developed the Rules. They saved her from many unnecessary burns.

Ty Lee wanted to warn Azula and Mai, even if she knew they would ignore her. Something was watching them as they made camp outside the swamp. Something had watched Azula’s every step, seen everything Azula had picked up, felt pain from every branch Azula had plucked from the trees. And it wasn’t going to forget either.

Out of the three of them, Ty Lee was the most spiritual. She hadn’t been lying when she claimed she saw her aura: her aura _was_ very pink, a sign of her natural optimism. She could feel it diminishing in front of this swamp. This was no ordinary place – there was something living in there. She felt as though someone was trying to pull part of her away, as if something wanted to steal a vital and important piece of her.

Ty Lee shivered and hugged herself, curling up as close as she dared to get to the campfire. She couldn’t believe how calm Mai and Azula were – how could they not feel the oppressive air that was gathering around them?

_Shink… shink…shiiiiink…_

Ty Lee forced herself to focus on Mai’s knives. There was something strangely soothing about them, and she found herself comforted.

Her eyes began to droop, and the last thing she heard before dropping off completely was Azula and Mai’s quiet exchange.

“What’s she so worked up about anyway?”

“Maybe she knows something you don’t.”

* * *

Across the ocean, Iroh was as uneasy as Ty Lee. He’d sat in meetings all day, but he hadn’t heard a single word that had been spoken to him.

He glanced down at his hand and noted it was stained with ink. Apparently he had also been signing documents without reading them.

Iroh made a mental note to review those documents in the morning and broke for dinner. Before he could leave the table he was approached by Cai. Iroh bowed in greeting.

“General,” Cai said in a low-pitched voice. “There are several merchants here who have recently returned from the Earth Kingdom. They wish for a private meeting. They say it is of utmost importance.”

A stab of fear went through Iroh’s heart. He nodded at Cai. “I have been waiting for news from the Earth Kingdom. I will meet with them in private. Can you arrange it so I am not missed at dinner?”

Cai’s eyes widened at Iroh’s solemn tone. “I will do anything you ask, sir.”

“I know I can count on you, my boy.”

“The merchants are waiting for you in the private dining hall.”

Iroh hurried to the hall, greeting each merchant personally. The six men who sat in front of him were among the few that Zuko had chosen to honor the temporary trade agreements set up with the Earth Kingdom before the conference had started and official guidelines were set down. They were a rough crew, but respectable and honest – Zuko had made sure of this when he ordered a background check on each man. He’d already had one bad experience with pirates and wanted to avoid dealing with them again.

“My advisor tells me you have important news from the Earth Kingdom.”

They nodded. Their leader, Jian, presented him with a scroll. Iroh opened it and found one of Azula’s wanted posters. “How completely unexpected,” he commented. “A poster of my niece. I have seen many of these, you know.” His tone was clear: he was not pleased and expected real news to come from this.

“General, sir, we have been trading off the coast of the southern Earth Kingdom in the last month. Several days ago a farmer who came to town for supplies informed me that he had hired her and two other girls to help bring in his harvest before they all ran off. I showed him that poster and he confirmed it was her.”

“Lord Zuko and I have long since guessed that the Earth Kingdom was where Azula and her friends had fled,” Iroh said, glancing at the poster. It was almost disturbing how well the sketch captured Azula’s spirit. He felt uncomfortable – as if it were looking at him, scrutinizing him for a weakness and a way to exploit it. Azula had always been gifted in the art of exploitation. It was something she’d been perfecting ever since she was a child and had stolen her father’s favor over Zuko.

“There is more, sir,” Jian said, bowing his head. “The next day we sailed a little bit farther up the coast. A fellow merchant confirmed another sighting of her – she had distracted him while one of her friends cleaned him out. She told them they were heading north to Omashu. As far as we can tell, we were a step behind them, but we felt it was important that you knew Azula was on the move.”

One word stuck with Iroh: Omashu.

“She seeks to confront Lord Zuko as he returns home.”

“You have confirmed our suspicions, General.”

Anger welled up in Iroh. “Why did you return here? Why didn’t you send word to Ba Sing Se?”

“It was faster sir. We wanted to tell a member of the royal family as quickly as possible.”

Iroh rubbed his eyes wearily. “I cannot do anything from here!”

“Sir, you will have to be prepared to fight! If Azula should confront Lord Zuko and beat him-“

Jian fell backwards out of his chair as Iroh lashed out, sending a powerful flame at him.

“You dare doubt the ability of your own Fire Lord?!” Iroh was furious. He could feel adrenaline running through his body, causing his limbs to tremble with rage. “I want you to get out of my sight. Now!” The men scrambled from the room, clearly terrified of the upset Iroh.

As soon as he was alone, Iroh collapsed into the nearest chair and dropped his head into his hands. A part of him always knew Azula would come back – she’d never had the chance to defend the throne after her father had been defeated. It wasn’t in her nature to stay down and out of sight. He knew Zuko had always counted on having to face Azula once again also, though they had never discussed it.

But to have Zuko be unaware, unprepared for it?

Iroh thought about the men he had just yelled at and regretted losing his temper. Vaguely, he wondered if he was angry that they had doubted Zuko’s ability to beat Azula or if he was angry because part of him feared they were right.

* * *

Over the years Aang had become well acquainted with nightmares. They were a frequent occurrence those months when he was scrambling to finish his training before facing the Fire Lord. After he had beaten the Fire Lord, it seemed like there was a time when he was actually _living_ in a nightmare.

Even now, when his life was busy but not in danger, nightmares occasionally came. There were signs, Aang had learned, of a nightmare. Even in the most mundane dream, the wrong smile or the smallest detail out of place could tip him off to the impending twist. The best way to fight the nightmares, he had learned, was to recognize them early on for what they were and to wake up before they got out of hand.

Toph frequently had nightmares too – usually when she kicked out in her sleep and “saw” something that worked its way into her dream. Aang had spent many a night commiserating with her, and once, in the spirit of bonding, had explained to her how he tried to deal with the nightmares.

Toph had snorted. “Avoidance. Typical airbender response.”

The dream Aang was currently having had all the hallmarks of a nightmare: it had started out nicely, traveling on Appa. He was alone with Katara – a perfectly normal, happy situation that wouldn’t have concerned him if she weren’t acting so anxiously. She was distant, distracted, staring at the west and running her tongue over her lips as if she were nervous.

Looking up at the evening sky, he saw that the setting sun had cast a dark red glow over them. It made Aang feel slightly nauseated; he had seen the same red glow in only one place: the chamber of Fire Lord Ozai. It was the color of a bright fire – or blood.

His heart rate picked up – he could actually hear it beating in his ears – and he realized what was going to happen. Aang tried in vain to wake himself up, but it appeared he was lost in the dream and that his mind would be ignoring his wishes tonight. He would have to take Toph’s usual advice: face it head on and hope it wasn’t a bad one.

Katara was actively pacing on Appa now. “I don’t see why we’re going.”

The words came to Aang automatically. “We have to go. Zuko asked and I won’t turn him down.”

Katara rounded on him, nearly spitting with rage. “Zuko is not what he looks like. They already _have_ him!”

Even in his dream the words meant nothing to him. Before Aang could reply, he felt the sudden sensation of free falling. Appa was simply falling out of the sky, with no concern for his passengers. Katara screamed in terror and reached out for him, her hand slipping through his.

The wind whistled through his ears, forming whispers: _so close… so close…_

He kicked out his legs, attempting to bend the air and save himself and reach Katara, but his bending powers had abandoned him in this crucial moment.

The ground flew up towards him – _closer and closer and closer_ – and he braced for impact –

And woke up with a gasp, limbs flying and soaked in sweat.

His first instinct after experiencing a nightmare was to take a head check, making sure those around him were actually safe and sound. It was not quite dawn yet, but streaks of soft light were starting to appear on the horizon, providing him with enough light to make out his friends.

Shock from the nightmare had woken him up. The panic from what he was seeing – or _not_ seeing – kept him awake.

“_Wake up_! You guys, wake up!”

_   
_

* * *

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lapsus Memoriae – A Slip of the Memory


	3. Ex Abrupto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get into the swamp, where Aang and the Gang stumble unto a grisly scene, Zuko meets some of the weirder aspects of the swamp, and Azula contemplates her past

Sokka was having a pleasant dream – one involving lots of food and plenty of girls. He was just offering a young girl a plate of fresh grapes when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Confused, he looked down and saw the bounty hunter woman – what was her name? – standing in front of him, looking furious.

“Wake up!” she demanded, landing another blow to his chest. She briefly morphed into a penguin and disappeared, and Sokka was struck with the sudden awareness that it wasn’t a female voice telling him to wake up. His brain quickly figured out what was happening – pain, plus a voice shrieking at him in panic? They had to be under attack.

His eyes flew open and he threw his arms out, looking for his machete to defend himself from another blow. Grabbing it, he pulled himself up, swinging defensively when another pair of words broke through his consciousness: “Appa’s _gone_!”

Letting out a furious roar, he launched himself at the nearest attacker - and received an unpleasant surprise when he found that it wasn’t an attacker at all but Katara attempting to wake herself up and attend to Aang. She released a growl to match his, and Sokka felt a cold sensation in his chest as she pushed him away with a powerful blast from her waterskin.

Nearby, he heard a thump as Toph landed on the ground, along with her whine: “When I taught you how to do that, it wasn’t so you could use it against me.”

The cold water had served another purpose. Sokka was fully awake, and was greeted by a red faced Avatar. “Appa is gone!”

“Did he wander off to graze?” asked Katara, still slightly groggy.

“No! He’s nowhere around here! He’s gone!” Aang’s voice was growing more and more panicked with each statement.

Sokka looked around, taking stock of their campsite. “Aang, Appa isn’t the only one that’s gone.”

The angry Avatar turned and faced him.

Katara let out a gasp behind him – she had noticed also. “Zuko!”

The Fire Lord was no longer in their camp.

Actually, Sokka realized with growing dread, their camp was no longer in their camp. “This isn’t where we landed,” he announced, wondering how he hadn’t noticed as soon as they had woken up.

There was silence as everyone else took in their surroundings. The five of them had landed in the middle of a grassy green field next to a clean blue river before settling down to sleep. The night had been clear, and Sokka had drifted off thinking that if it weren’t for the circumstances of their travel, this might just be the most idealistic existence of all.

This place was the opposite of idealistic. The grass was yellow and crunchy beneath his feet. The river was gone, and replacing it was a thick copse of dead trees. The air was thick and stale, and the cool night was replaced by a hot and humid morning.

“How did we end up here?” asked Aang. “Why aren’t Appa and Zuko here too?”

Sokka went over to Zuko’s sleeping place and picked up his bedroll. It was still warm. “I don’t know about Appa, but Zuko hasn’t been gone long. He was here with us, at least until a little bit ago.”

“_Zuko_ took _Appa_!” Everyone ignored Aang’s ridiculous statement. Zuko could barely stand to ride Appa when _Aang_ was controlling him. Aang wasn’t thinking clearly in his panicked state.

“Actually Aang, I think it’s more likely that Appa took Zuko.” Sokka pointed out the wide trail cutting through the grass. “He can’t be too far from here, if his bed is still warm.”

“I don’t know…” Toph was goose-stepping around camp, trying to force wide vibrations. “I can’t feel anyone moving around here.” The implication made them all nervous: either Zuko wasn’t in the area, or he was in the area and not moving.

“Come on.” Sokka started following the trail. Behind him he could hear the high-pitched sounds of Aang’s bison whistle. Toph stomped up beside him, still feeling for anyone moving around them.

Soft words reached his ear: Katara attempting to comfort Aang. “They can’t be too far away Aang. We’ll find them.”

The two were wrapped up in their own little world – Katara focused on Aang, Aang focused on the sky, searching for signs of the bison. They were barely paying attention to working their way through the thick trees, let alone to Sokka and Toph’s tense discussion.

“Can you feel anyone moving?”

“Just us four. Do you see anything moving in the trees?”

“Nothing but shadows. We can only keep following the trail-“

Sokka cut himself off. The trail ended abruptly. He threw an arm out to stop Toph, but Aang and Katara weren’t paying attention to anything around them and didn’t notice that the two in front of them were no longer moving. Sokka ended up face first in –

“The swamp? How did we get back here? We should be farther north than this.” Aang scratched his head, eyebrows furrowed.

Katara was holding her nose. “I forgot how badly this place smells.”

“Good thing then you didn’t end up with a face full of it,” Sokka grumbled, pulling himself out of the mire he was stuck in. He attempted to wipe the mess from his face before noticing something out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s that?” Sokka reached out and found a piece of scarlet cloth in his hands – cloth that matched the material that made up Zuko’s traveling cloak. “He was here!” He looked back up at his companions.

Katara and Aang both looked anxious – Aang couldn’t keep his eyes off the sky even though the trees were so thick one could barely make out a bit of blue between branches. Katara couldn’t take her eyes off of the piece of cloth in Sokka’s hand.

Toph, on the other hand, wasn’t even paying attention. Her stance was rigid and her feet were planted wide. Her eyes were closed as she focused on her ears and what she was hearing.

“Zuko is somewhere in the swamp…” Katara took the piece from Sokka’s hand. “Look! Those branches are broken in the same direction!” She helped Sokka up. “Come on – we have to try and find him!”

Toph opened her eyes. “I don’t think we should-“

“We can’t go in there! Appa doesn’t fit in the swamp. He can’t be in there,” Aang informed them hotly.

“Aang,” Katara reached out for him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Zuko is in here somewhere. We need to stick together first before we find Appa. Even if we found him now, we would have to leave him to find Zuko.”

Aang bit his lip, clearly torn. “I guess you’re right.”

“Seriously, we shouldn’t go in here!” Toph insisted.

“Toph, we’ve been here before. There’s nothing here but a couple of crazy waterbenders and some creepy tree. Aang’s performed weirder tricks with breakfast,” Sokka assured her. Toph’s lower lip popped out, forming a small pout she wasn’t aware even aware of.

Aang, Katara and Sokka started into the swamp, looking for a continuing trail to follow. Toph hesitated before sighing and joining them.

* * *

Zuko had always been proud of his instincts. They were useful in alerting him to danger and saving his life. Even if he needed to rest, he found his instincts were almost always on full alert. He gave Azula full credit – when they were young, she found great pleasure in making him miserable, and as a result he had forced himself to be continuously aware of her location.

He wondered what his instincts had been distracted by when he woke up and realized he was bound and suspended, unable to move his arms or legs, high above the ground. Taking in his surroundings, Zuko realized he was very much alone, in the middle of a very thick forest.

Struggling against the vines holding him up, a flame shot from his palm, easily destroying his binds. Zuko dropped face first into slimy green water.

A very thick _swamp_, then.

Standing, he looked up at where he had been held. There was a very noticeable hole in the now-charred vines stringing a wall between the branches of the trees. Next to the one he had just fallen from were four other holes – three deeper ones and one extremely shallow one.

Concern for his companions quickly turned to hot anger. They had been there and _left_ him?

If Zuko was going to be honest with himself, behind the anger were feelings of sadness and shame – he opened himself to very few people. His uncle knew him like no one else. There had been the one occasion he had momentarily bonded with the girl Song, who was scarred like he was. Months of training with the Avatar and battling with him and his friends had forced them to open up and confront their fears of each other. They had saved each other countless times – how could Aang leave him here? The fury – the mortification - he felt welled up and threatened to consume him. He’d been made a fool.

Zuko took a deep breath and let it out slowly, releasing steam into the trees above him. He didn’t know where he was. He’d just been betrayed by some of the very few people he trusted. He was far away from home and he didn’t know how sick his uncle was. He couldn’t afford to lose control now – he needed to focus on staying alive to get home to his uncle and his nation.

Taking in his surroundings, he climbed out of the water up onto high ground and pulled off his boots to shake the muck out of them. A chill ran up Zuko’s spine, and he was very aware of the fact that he was being watched.

Casually, he took another look around, trying to discern where his watcher was hiding. The swamp hid its secrets well; Zuko saw nothing except trees and shadows. He slid his boots back on slowly, waiting for the intruder to make himself known.

There was a tense moment, then the snaps and pops of someone breaking through the vines and branches as they ran. Zuko took off towards the sound, but the person running in front of him stayed several steps ahead. All Zuko could catch was a glimpse of dark hair, a flash of red, before they would disappear behind another tree, twist in another direction.

Whoever it was knew the swamp better than Zuko, which put him at a disadvantage. The humid air choked his lungs, and though he was in very good shape he had trouble breathing. He kept tripping on roots and vines that seemed to spring from the ground out of nowhere, as if aiming just for him. Trees that had previously been to his right or left were suddenly right in front of him, forcing him to alter course at the last moment and setting him off balance.

Suddenly his foot caught firmly on a rock. He couldn’t adjust his balance in time and hit the ground, momentarily seeing stars.

Zuko had the very sudden and very firm thought that he was losing his mind. He’d clearly been chasing some poor scared animal.

He just couldn’t figure out which animal made a noise that sounded exactly like a woman’s laugh.

* * *

The plan had been very simple: go north, cut through the swamp, and arrive at Omashu. Lay low until Zuko passed though again. It wasn’t a hard plan to follow, nor was it particularly complicated.

Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai had entered the swamp early in the morning. Ty Lee, much to her irritation, was still stuck on whatever was bugging her the night before. She was walking closely to Mai, her eyes darting around, taking in all the scenery. Azula thought she looked rather like an animal that knew it was being tracked by a predator.

As the morning wore on, Azula found doubt creeping into her mind. She had clearly underestimated just how thick the trees and vines were – it was impossible to cut a clear path north. She wasn’t the type to be spooked easily, but the farmer had been correct: there was something undeniably wrong with this place.

It pained her to admit that someone else was right, that it might have not been the best idea to come to this place. Azula entertained, briefly, the notion of turning back and heading towards the coast, but this thought was met with revulsion from the rest of her mind.

Whatever was in the swamp, she was confidant that she was stronger than it. Ty Lee and Mai were as strong as she was, and the three of them together were nearly unbeatable.

_Except for that one time they had been beaten._

The memory of her final battle came roaring back. Usually she found herself helpless with rage at the memory. Now she felt cold determination.

“Ty Lee,” she said, turning to her companions, “climb one of these trees and check that we’re still heading north.”

Ty Lee’s eyes went wide. “Azula, I don’t know-“

Azula gritted her teeth. “Just do it! Do you want to get out of here or not?”

Ty Lee flinched, and Mai put a hand on her arm. Ty Lee pulled away roughly and hopped onto the lowest branch of the tree in front of her.

Azula stood beside Mai. “I wish she’d get over whatever is bothering her.”

Mai slid a glance at Azula. “Something about this place is speaking to her.”

“What about you? Are you being spoken to?” Azula couldn’t keep the mocking note out of her voice.

Most firebenders worshipped the spirits, particularly Agni, the spirit of fire. Azula took a different approach: she didn’t believe they existed. Sure, she had been raised properly. She made the appropriate offers at the temple and meticulously memorized the complicated prayers, but she whole-heartedly believed it was just for show: something for citizens to learn and focus on so they could blame their problems on something other than the royal family.

She had faint memories of being little – small enough that her mother still carried her – and going to temple and being amazed. The entire process was mesmerizing – to a four year old. She’d done as she was told to: learned the proper protocol, and even believed in it for a little while.

When she was eight and had grown more advanced than her current firebending mentor, her tutelage had been assigned to then-Captain Zhao. It was then that her whole world had opened up. It wasn’t just the firebending, because it was – her skills had reached abnormal levels. It was his _attitude_.

He had taught her so much more than just forms and breathing.

It was he who told her the truth about the spirits, how they were nothing to fear and didn’t care about human lives. He even suggested that a human might be able to kill a spirit – that humans, specifically benders, might be more powerful than the spirits themselves.

At first she’d been shocked, scandalized even. And she found out she wasn’t alone in that opinion, when she’d confided his views to her two friends, who had actually made noises about her finding a new tutor. Azula ignored them. The longer Zhao taught her, the more she was drawn to him. She was devastated when he was shipped off the day before her twelfth birthday.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Li and Lo – they were two of the most powerful firebenders in the nation; it was that no one had ever explained to her exactly why Zhao had been forced to leave.

She’d been sad when she’d learned of his death in battle at the North Pole. It was one more thing the Avatar had taken away from her.

Over time the general disrespect for the spirits that Zhao had instilled in her had morphed into simple disbelief. Mai and Ty Lee were the only two souls who knew her true beliefs, and knowing that she would never convert them, refused to discuss it with them outside of the rare snide comment. Occasionally she wondered if comments about her disbelief made Ty Lee as uncomfortable as she felt when Ty Lee mentioned her steadfast faith in the spirits.

“I don’t hear anything,” Mai answered Azula’s question honestly. “But I don’t doubt Ty Lee either.”

“It’s not that I doubt _her_,” Azula said defensively. “We’re stronger than anything that could possibly be in here.”

Mai’s response was cut off by sudden movement in the trees above them and a sharp scream from Ty Lee.

“Ty-“ Before Azula could make a single move, something slithered up and wrapped around her leg, pulling her down. Next to her, Mai let out grunt as she was pulled down too. Azula let out a snarl and loosed a bright blue flame, freeing her leg.

She pulled herself up and shot a wave that not only destroyed the vine around Mai’s leg but also burned several more vines she could see moving towards them.

“Ty Lee!” Azula grabbed Mai by the back of her brown cloak and hauled her up, looking up in canopy for her other friend. Judging by Ty Lee’s shrieks, she wasn’t doing well. Azula shot another flame up into the trees, and crashing through the brush came a flipping Ty Lee, who landed perfectly on one knee before them. If it wasn’t for the look of total fear on her face Azula would have thought she’d done it all on purpose.

“Run!” she cried, taking off. Azula and Mai didn’t have to think twice; they fled, following Ty Lee. They ran with ease, cutting through the trees and hopping over the logs, no destination in mind but away from the place that was trying to pull them apart.

“Azula! Ty Lee!” Mai was no longer running with them. They both pulled up, and turned around to where their friend was standing, waiting patiently for them.

“What are you doing?” Ty Lee asked, voice wavering with fear.

Mai held out her arms. “There’s _nothing_ here! _Nothing_ is chasing us!”

The three of them stood silently for a moment, as if waiting for something to pop up and confront them. Nothing happened.

Azula saw red. “What happened?” she demanded of Ty Lee.

The poor girl was still shaken up. “I was climbing down and something attacked me! It just wrapped right around my body and started pulling me away! If you hadn’t helped me I would have suffocated.” Mai put a comforting hand on Ty Lee’s shoulder, trying to help the girl calm down.

“Azula, we should get out of this place. This was a mistake coming here.”

Azula’s eyes narrowed. Were they honestly telling her she had made the wrong decision? “We will get out of here,” she said hotly, “when Ty Lee informs us which way is north.”

Ty Lee’s face scrunched up, and for an awful moment Azula thought she was going to start crying, but instead she silently pointed in a direction. Azula turned her back on the two of them and started cutting a path, using huge gusts of flames to destroy the vegetation in her path and release her aggression.

“Azula-“ Ty Lee called out. Azula turned her head, glaring at her two friends who hadn’t moved. “I don’t know if you should, if we should…” she trailed off, withering under Azula’s glower.

Wordlessly, Azula turned around again and continued creating a path for them to follow. She didn’t look to see if Ty Lee and Mai were behind her. They would come or they wouldn’t.

* * *

They had lost Zuko’s trail. It was hard to follow someone in a marshy swamp, and the trail of broken branches and bent vines disappeared quickly.

Aang was rather ashamed to admit it, but his mind was not on the missing Fire Lord. He was wondering where Appa was and if he was okay, if he was safe, if someone had found him and was helping him or hurting him.

His thoughts were interrupted when he realized everyone was staring at him. “What?” he asked, confused.

“Did you hear my question at all?” asked Sokka. Aang just shook his head. “I asked if you could do that Avatar thing you did last time and try to find Zuko.”

Aang blinked for a moment. “That Avatar thing?”

Katara shot Sokka a look. “I think what Sokka is saying, since everything here is connected, maybe you can use that to find Zuko, like you did with Appa last time?”

“Oh, right.’ Aang put out a hand, placing it lightly on a tree in front of him, forcing his mind to focus on the Fire Lord instead of the bison. Katara gave a sharp gasp, and he guessed that his arrow must have lit up – meaning he had connected.

Sure enough, a moment later he could feel himself traveling through the swamp without moving. He twisted up, then down, and underwater and around trees, flying towards his goal.

Suddenly he took a sharp twist. Oddly, he hadn’t seen the Fire Lord, but Aang knew he was no longer tracking him. He tried to pull back, to pull his mind away from where it was going, but he was caught up in the momentum and had to follow it through.

He ended up at a place that was familiar to him: the campsite where the native waterbenders made their home. He wondered why he had ended up there, when a white-hot pain and a vision of grinning teeth shot through his mind.

Aang let out a cry and jumped back from the tree. Katara was instantly at his side, steadying him. “What happened? What did you see?”

“No Zuko,” Aang mumbled, rubbing his forehead. “But I did see something. Come on!” He hopped up, taking the nearest clear path that would lead him to the waterbender’s camp.

Katara easily matched his stride, but behind her he could hear Toph scrambling to keep up with him through the low hanging branches and Sokka behind her, making sure she wasn’t left behind.

As they approached the camp, the atmosphere grew more sinister, as if it was closing in around them. Aang’s heart thudded in his chest as he prayed softly that what he had glimpsed for those few moments was not real. He rushed up the last little hill, the one that overlooked the campsite, hoping more than anything that the waterbenders would be there to greet them, maybe force them to eat more gross bugs and help them find the missing Fire Lord.

What he found was a scene of utter devastation.

Aang lost his breath as he took in what was in front of him: the camp was destroyed. Their tents were torn apart and scattered, with tattered remains blowing softly from some of the poles that still stood. Several of their canoes had been pulled from the bank and ruined: splinters of wood were spread out over the campsite.

But what Aang couldn’t take his eyes off were the people – at least, what was left of them. In front of Aang was a leg - an actual human leg. He stared at it mutely, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

“Aang why did you-“ Katara’s words died as she came up the hill behind him. He spun around, trying to block her view.

“Don’t look. Just – don’t.”

“What are you talking about?” she pushed him away, determined to see what he had led them too. She took in the campsite, the broken tents and canoes, and the human remains and promptly paled, putting her hand to her mouth. “What happened here?” she asked, her eyes wide and shiny as they filled with tears. Aang reached out for her, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her close. Devastation always made him want to keep her close to him, not only to protect her, but to anchor himself to the real world.

The sounds of Sokka and Toph struggling up the hill reached his ears, and he didn’t even attempt to stop the warrior and the earthbender from the grotesque scene.

Whatever had stormed the waterbender’s camp had shown no mercy. Every single waterbender was dead, along with their pets. Some had literally been ripped apart – there were appendages strewn about the camp. A leg here, an arm there – it would be impossible to tell what belonged to whom.

It occurred to Aang that identifying the bodies wasn’t going to happen even if he wanted to – none of the torsos left in the camp, including one hung over a tree branch, like some obscene decorative lantern, had a head attached. Even the one or two bodies that hadn’t been separated at the limbs were still missing a head, a face to give it some sense of human dignity.

Every bare surface had blood splashed over it. What was left of the burlap used to make their tents, the light green cloths they had worn as clothing: it was all dark red. They hadn’t just been killed – they had been slaughtered.

“What? What is going on?” Toph stomped around, trying to get a better picture of what was troubling her companions. “What’s the big deal about some campsite with some sticks in it?”

“Toph, these aren’t sticks.” Sokka said flatly. Toph’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she suddenly got a better idea of what was in front of her.

“It’s not a stick…” she said slowly. “A stick doesn’t have a foot with five toes attached to it…” She turned away and retched.

Katara was trembling. Somehow she had gotten tangled up in him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. He didn’t want to, but he slowly pulled her away. “Stay here,” he ordered, taking several steps into the camp.

The smell was horrific. They had been dead for at least several weeks, judging by the state of the flesh on the bodies. A buzzing noise filled Aang’s ears, and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick or that he was going to pass out, but then he understood it was coming from the flies and bugs that had gathered to feast.

There were no tracks, no trail, nothing to indicate who – or what – had done this. The waterbenders had always lived peacefully in the swamp. What had changed that? Whatever it was, it hadn’t been expected. There had been no attempt to pack up camp or to flee. Something had just come in and interrupted their everyday life.

“Aang,” Sokka quietly called him, breaking through his little investigation. Aang turned and saw that Katara was now clinging to her brother, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. Sokka wasn’t even trying to turn Katara away from the violence, and Aang had the urge to carry her off, away from all of this.

He thought he had seen the last of this stuff with the end of the war. Aang had done his best to shield his friends from it, to keep them from seeing what he was forced to confront daily, but the Fire Nation was merciless, and more than once they had found some poor family that had been robbed and murdered, just for being alone and uninvolved with the war. The sight of death now had the same effect on him as it did the first time he saw Gyatso’s skeleton at the southern air temple. It filled him with such anger, such fury, he wanted to find whoever was responsible and make them feel the pain they had caused to others…

“Aang,” Sokka called again. Aang looked at him questioningly. “We shouldn’t stay here. Whoever did this might come back…” The implication was _we could easily be killed as well_.

He returned to his friends. Toph was standing as still as possible, trying not to send out any vibrations and force herself to pick any more details from the scene. Aang reached out, to comfort her, but she tensed before he could touch her.

“Can’t you hear it?” she demanded angrily.

“What do you hear?” Aang asked nervously, hoping that whatever it was, it wasn’t heading towards them.

“They’re still here. They don’t understand what happened.” She blinked rapidly, and Aang realized she was close to tears. He had only seen Toph cry twice before – once before she made the decision to run away from her parents, and again several months after the final battle when she returned home and encountered the burned crops and the scorched earth that the Fire Nation had destroyed in their attempts to cripple the Earth Kingdom. Neither time had been a comfortable experience for him.

Before he could react, Sokka pulled away from Katara and easily picked up Toph. She stiffened and started to fight against him.

“What are you doing?”

“You can’t close your eyes, so I’m doing it for you,” he told her firmly. Then, to Aang and Katara he said, “Let’s get out of here.”

Toph plugged her ears, and for the first time Aang could recall, gracefully accepted help from another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ex Abrupto: Without Preparation
> 
> Re: Azula and Zhao. I wasn't so much going for a relationship as much as I was going for a "Azula has a crush on Zhao and Zhao decides to exploit that" type plot line. More will be revealed in later chapters, but … Azula's pretty screwed up.


	4. Neutiquam Erro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gaang confronts some old fears and create some new ones as the swamp plays its tricks on everyone. Leaders outside the swamp start to make some moves.

The sun broke over the wall, and still Bao and Bumi sat together in silence. They had been sitting there since Bao had woken Bumi up – only an hour or so after he had finally gotten to sleep, thanks to a certain Fire Nation soldier – and given him the grim news.

The Avatar’s bison had been found in the southern half of the kingdom, agitated but unhurt. Appa was loaded down with traveling supplies for five people – none of whom were with the bison.

What concerned Bumi most was one little detail that no one else seemed to find important: those who found the bison had gone into a couple of the packs, hoping to find personal items to identify who they belonged to. In the bottom of one of the packs they found the light blue necklace that was usually around Katara’s neck. Bumi knew, of course, that despite the fact that Aang had recently replaced it with an engagement necklace of his own, the necklace was still one of Katara’s most cherished possessions. She was not likely to leave it behind anywhere willingly.

As the news had come north to Ba Sing Se it had also spread like wildfire across the entire kingdom through the night. The reaction from the public was swift and terrifying:

_The Fire Lord was responsible for the Avatar’s disappearance_.

Bumi wasn’t sure how they had reached this conclusion, but their logic seemed to be along the lines of “Distrust of the Fire Nation” plus “Missing Avatar” equaled “The Fire Lord is responsible.” The public was totally outraged, even right there in the citadel. Zuko’s guards had practically been forced to go into hiding deep in the lower levels of the palace. Bumi had sent word that the king might want to consider setting extra protection to watch over the Fire Nation guards. Reports of raiding and looting Fire Nation merchants had already come pouring in, along with copies of editorials condemning the Fire Lord and his nation and all of his attempts at peace that had been printed with mind-spinning speed.

“You know the Fire Nation is going to attack,” Bao said, breaking the silence.

“It is a possibility we have to consider,” Bumi agreed quietly.

“It’s more than a possibility, it’s almost a certainty!” Bao insisted. “I mean, look at that guard who tried to attack you last night! “Avenging Lord Zuko!” And that was _before_ the bison was found!”

Bumi said nothing in response. He had felt pity for the young soldier and his intense loyalty to the Fire Lord. Lord Zuko had given his entourage no information before leaving with the Avatar, and the entourage had decided that the Earth Kingdom was somehow responsible for Zuko’s disappearance. The fact that the Earth Kingdom held no ill will towards the Avatar hadn’t even registered with them until Bumi had pointed it out to the young man.

He and Bao had argued over his handling of the situation. “Attacking another nation’s king is an _act of war_!” Bao had insisted, though Bumi had shaken him off. He did agree that it seemed unlikely that the Fire Nation would just accept that Lord Zuko had up and vanished in their territory – especially with General Iroh sick. It would appear that the Earth Kingdom was trying to take advantage of the Fire Nation in a moment of vulnerability.

“I know you like to sit back and wait,” Bao said, interrupting Bumi’s thoughts yet again. “And I know it has worked for you in the past, but we may need to go on the offensive here.”

Bumi just looked at his heir, considering his words. Unbidden, the memory of bring teaching Aang about the different Jings came to him. Negative Jing, when retreating. Positive Jing, when attacking. Neutral Jing when doing nothing. He was the master of Neutral Jing. He knew this – it was simply part of being an earthbender.

Bao was right; Neutral Jing would not work in this situation. He would have to take a more active stance. The heir looked at him expectantly. He had wandered into Bumi’s court not long after Aang had first returned, before he had even mastered waterbending. He hadn’t revealed much of his history, though Bumi knew he was a war orphan who had taught himself earthbending until he was taken in by a high-ranking family in Bumi’s court, who had refined his skills. Ever since he had handpicked the now-master earthbender to be his heir, Bao had exceeded his wildest expectations.

Sure, sometimes he was a little too quiet when he should have spoken up, and sometimes he spoke out of turn when he should have been silent, but those were instincts that would develop as he become more comfortable in his new position. He also failed to find a lot of Bumi’s pranks funny, which worried the king, but he did possess what Bumi considered the most important quality in a leader: he could make people believe in what he believed in. It was a useful quality, especially with a group as stubborn as earthbenders.

In an instant, Bumi made his decision.

“You’re right,” Bumi said to Bao. “We can’t hide behind the walls this time. I have something I want you to do.”

* * *

Zuko considered himself many things. He considered himself a modest enough leader – at least, when compared to previous leaders of the Fire Nation. He considered himself strong enough to settle down and rule the Fire Nation peacefully. He considered himself patient enough to hang around the Avatar and King Bumi for extended periods of time without wanting to injure them. He considered himself humble enough to ask for help when he needed it.

He also considered himself totally and utterly lost.

The swamp was even more unpleasant than he had suspected. Zuko had dared to hope he’d been making progress; once he’d regained a sense of his bearings after chasing the mysterious figure, he’d decided to try and head west, climbing a tree to get an idea of his location and which way to head.

Zuko had cut a straight path, sticking as closely as he could to a clear line, until once, with a growing suspicion in his mind, he’d marked a tree as he passed. He’d continued on, when, just as he’d feared, he’d come up to the same tree.

Zuko stood before it, contemplating how far he’d actually gone if he’d been making circles all day. He blinked.

The mark was gone.

He took a step back in surprise, and noticed that the mark was now on the tree to his left. He reached out and touched it, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating. The scorched bark dragged under his palm, leaving his fingers black. He blinked again.

The mark was back on the first tree. Zuko looked down at his black fingers, confirming that what he had seen was real. He looked back up at the tree.

The mark was upside down.

He gasped in astonishment and stumbled back from the tree. His foot caught on a root – he was starting to suspect they were specifically popping out to trip him – and he fell backwards, landing with a splash in murky water.

Zuko came up spluttering, spitting out water and wiping his eyes.

The tree was totally gone, and in its place was his mother.

He let out a surprised yelp and swiped at his eyes again, sure that she would disappear, but even after he stood up and shook the slime from his clothes, she stood, silent and unmoving.

“Mom?” he asked, slowly reaching out a hand for her.

Part of him knew this wasn’t real – his mother was dead and he knew it. He’d found out after the war how his mother had been killed the same night as his grandfather and dumped in an unmarked grave – his father, despite all his flaws, kept meticulous records of all the major events of his life, expecting them to be remembered in greatness for generations. The woman in front of him, whoever she was, was not his mother.

She looked at him and smiled, and despite all knowledge of reality, Zuko felt a little bit of weight lift from his shoulders. It was a smile straight from his memory, from when he didn’t know what path he would be forced to take or how his life was going to change.

A smile twitched on his face, but before he could touch her, her expression changed drastically. Her eyes darkened and dilated, going black. She bared her teeth, showing off the sharpened points.

He recoiled and snapped his hand back to his body.

“You _failed_ me,” she cried.

“No! No I didn’t!” He dropped to his knees and covered his ears. “I won! I’m the Fire Lord! I didn’t!”

“_You failed me_!” she repeated over and over, her voice rising until it was no longer a normal tone but an inhuman wail that circled around him and ripped through right to the darkest parts of his soul.

“I didn’t! _I didn’t_!” he kept insisting, rocking on his knees, hands clamped to his head. He chanced an eye open, afraid but still wanting to see her, then straightened up in surprise.

The wind howled around him, whipping through his clothes. All that stood before him was a tree with the black mark of his palm seared into it.

* * *

They had been traveling silently all day. This was fine by Mai, who had nothing to say. Her thoughts were focused solely on what had happened to them earlier in the day.

Azula, still clearly angry, was bending a path for them to follow. Huge gusts of blue flames rolled from her hands, leaving black and broken plants in her wake. Every time the sound of the crackling vegetation reached her ears, she could hear Ty Lee whimper behind her.

Ty Lee’s demeanor had changed dramatically since they had entered the swamp. Gone were the smiles, the singing, the dancing, and the optimistic declarations – almost everything that made up the pleasant personality of Ty Lee had faded within the borders of the quagmire they were working their way through.

Mai wasn’t sure what worried her more – the fact that Ty Lee might have been losing her mind, or that she was afraid her own mind was starting to go.

There was nothing around them. Mai had both hunted and been hunted; she knew by heart the signs of a predator. If it weren’t for their experience in the morning, she would have guessed that she was imagining thing; that she was finally giving into the spook stories meant to keep little kids awake at night.

Her mind, however, was convinced that something was out there. She kept seeing flashes – lightning quick movements out of the corner of her eye that she couldn’t follow. Mai was failing miserably in her attempt to convince herself that nothing was going on.

_There was nothing there. Her mind was making things up. _

Just in case, she found herself constantly checking her wrists and ankles, making sure her knives were ready to fly if necessary. Just because she had been caught by surprise once didn’t mean she intended to let it happen again.

Azula let loose another blast. A breeze picked up, and Mai felt her nose automatically wrinkle. The swamp had smelled awful from outside, at night. Once inside, in the heat of the day, it was at a whole new level. It reminded her most of all of something she hadn’t smelled since the war, something she hated but had grown used to, thanks to Azula:

Burned flesh.

The longer they spent crawling through the murky water and tangled vines, the more Mai became convinced that’s what she smelled.

She caught another flash out of the corner of her eye. Instinctively, her head snapped to follow even though she knew that nothing would be there. She felt Ty Lee tense.

Before she knew what she was doing, she reached back and gently grasped Ty Lee’s arm, bringing the other girl up next to her.

“What did you see?” Mai asked gently.

Ahead of her, Azula continued, either not noticing or not caring that her friends were no longer following her.

Ty Lee stared at Mai, her grey eyes wide and fearful.

“I didn’t see anything,” she whispered.

“I thought I saw something. I thought you did too.” Mai pointed vaguely behind her.

“I didn’t see anything.” Ty Lee shook her head as if to stress her point.

Mai gripped Ty Lee’s shoulders, fighting the impulse to shake the information out of the girl. She felt a sudden urge to understand what was going on, what was following them, what was waiting for them, what was causing this feeling of dread. “I _know_ you saw something, Ty.”

Ty Lee was speechless, her mouth agape as she continued shaking her head.

Realization set in: she was scaring Ty Lee. She was just making whatever had Ty Lee worked up _worse_. Guilt coursed through her and she released Ty, stepping back and looking down.

At that moment, Mai caught something else moving out of the corner of her eye. She spun around to meet whatever it was head on, determined not to be caught defenseless once again.

What happened next was a blur. There was the sharp twang of metal and a shriek. Then came a burning sensation in her hands, and she fell back in an attempt to get away from the pain.

“Mai, what _are_ you doing?” Azula’s voice broke through her consciousness. Mai recognized the tone: it was the defensive one Azula favored when she didn’t exactly understand what was happening but still wanted to appear in charge.

Mai blinked, trying to clear the sudden haze in her mind, and took in the scene in front of her.

Ty Lee was staring at her, pale and in shock. Mai wondered for a moment what had happened, and then she saw it.

The metal of the knife glinted on what light filtered through the branches. The knife itself was buried in the trunk of the tree. The tree itself was directly to Ty Lee’s left. The knife had just missed her ear.

Mai dragged her eyes away from the knife – her knife – in the tree and looked down. Her hands were sore and bright red; the sleeves and front of her tunic were charred and still warm, pressing an uncomfortable heat to her body. Only one person of the three of them could do that to her.

She looked at Azula and asked blankly “Why did you burn me?”

“Why did you just try to knife Ty Lee?” Azula shot back.

“I _didn’t_. I was just asking her what she had seen-“ Mai didn’t understand. She had scared Ty Lee, certainly. But she hadn’t attacked her – she didn’t _remember_ attacking her. She had _no reason_ to attack her.

The knife in the tree didn’t lie. It was her knife. Mai rolled back a sleeve and looked at her holster – one of the slots was in fact empty. The rest of her knives gleamed at her accusingly. “I thought there was something there,” she said lamely, still examining her holster.

Mai looked back up at the trembling Ty Lee. “I don’t know what happened. I’m sor-“

“Maybe something _is_ here,” Azula interrupted Mai’s apology, rushing off through the muddy grass.

Ty Lee followed Azula, leaving Mai to pull herself up. She winced at her burned hands, knowing full well that Azula knew how to bend fire without causing harm to her target.

Catching up with her friends, she looked at what had their attention.

“…It’s a handprint.”

Azula ran her hand over the mark on the tree. “It’s burned into the bark. There’s another firebender here.”

* * *

Cai sat, ashen faced, in front of Iroh. The two of them were seated alone, again in front of Iroh’s Pai Sho board. The pieces of the board were in no specific pattern; they were disjointed and disorganized. Iroh watched as Cai read the short message on the thin parchment yet again.

“Reading it again will not change the message, Cai.” Iroh closed his eyes for a moment and shifted his fingers over the Pai Sho board. When he opened his eyes, the message was as confusing as before.

Zuko was gone, caught up in something beyond his control. And Iroh was unable to help him.

Iroh _was_ worried he’d have to help Cai, however. As soon as Iroh had received word, he had called Cai in for a private meeting. The poor man looked as though he was going to faint right out of his chair.

“What are we going to do?” he asked Iroh, his eyes wide. Despite the situation, Iroh was pleased that he had said “we” instead of “you.”

“You realize what this could do to Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom relations?”

Cai nodded. Everyone was aware of how delicate the balance holding the Fire Nation up was. The fact that the man controlling those scales – with great success, judging by public opinion of him – has gone missing on previously enemy territory could infuriate the whole nation. “Do you think the Earth Kingdom is responsible?”

“I think someone _living_ in the Earth Kingdom is responsible.” Iroh handed Cai a second piece of parchment: the wanted poster of Azula that Jian the merchant had given to him. Cai sucked in a sharp breath.

“You don’t think?” he asked, clearly shocked.

“Zuko and I have long since assumed that Azula was hiding in the Earth Kingdom. The merchants I met with several days ago informed me that she had been spotted on the southwest coast and was on the move.”

“Why would she go after Zuko? Does she want to be arrested?” Cai shuddered and rolled the wanted poster back up. Iroh understood. He avoided looking at the thing himself if he could avoid it.

“Listen carefully, Cai, because I am going to tell you something that not very many people know. When the Avatar defeated Ozai, Lord Zuko and I were with him. Azula had gotten word of where we were heading but was intercepted before she could reach the temple.”

In any other circumstances, Iroh would have enjoyed himself. He held Cai’s attention totally. Cai was staring at Iroh in the manner of a small child enjoying a bedtime story, with his eyes focused and his jaw slightly agape. Iroh wasn’t surprised. Not many people knew what had happened in the aftermath of Ozai’s defeat.

Zuko had assumed immediate control, ordering several guards to find Katara to help with Aang’s injuries. Only one had questioned him, raising an eyebrow at Zuko’s demand.

“Do you plan on taking over now?” he had asked, clearly skeptical.

Zuko had gritted his teeth, and then said calmly, “I am the heir. I am the oldest son, exiled or not.”

The guard had looked at Iroh questioningly. Iroh merely bowed his head, indicating that they should be listening to Zuko and that he had no interest in challenging him for power.

It hadn’t been easy for Zuko to keep control. He’d had to clear out all of his father’s advisors. The same men who had cheered when Zuko was banished were now fighting to get back in his good graces and sit at his left hand. (The right hand, despite his protests, was reserved for Iroh). Instead, Zuko had ordered them all from the Fire Nation capital and handpicked his advisors with Aang’s help. Cai had been the last one selected, but had risen into Zuko’s favor quickly.

“Because Lord Zuko was still technically in exile when Ozai died, it would have been within Azula’s rights to challenge him for the throne, if she had made it to the temple. Even now, she may still challenge him. And if she beats him, then she has won the right to lead the Fire Nation. It is why she is considered a wanted criminal. My nephew either wanted her out of the country or right under his nose where he could watch her. He knew either one was a temporary solution, but he had bigger things to worry about.”

Cai picked up the wanted poster once again. “So she wants to take the throne away from Lord Zuko and rule the Fire Nation.”

“She wants to restore the Fire Nation to its former glory. She wants to avenge her father. She wants to destroy those who hurt her during the war. Do you see? It’s not just taking the throne from Lord Zuko and ruling the Fire Nation. She wants to justify everything she’s fought for these past six years. The only way to do that is to have power over everyone else.”

Cai nodded, and repeated his previous question. “So what are we going to do?”

Iroh picked up two items he had retrieved before meeting with Cai and set them down in front of him.

Cai picked them up, looking at the pieces. The red hairpiece in the shape of the Fire Nation seal held little interest to him. What caught his attention was the blue mask that Iroh had set next to it.

“This is the face of the Blue Spirit,” he said reverently, holding the mask with care.

“You recognize it?”

Cai nodded. “During the war you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing wanted posters for the Blue Spirit.”

“The mask belongs to Lord Zuko,” Iroh informed him gently.

Cai nearly dropped the mask as he made the connection. “You mean-?” at Iroh’s nod, he let out a soft “Wow…” and set the mask down again. “Why are you giving me these?”

“I want you to take these to the Earth Kingdom and find an old friend of mine.”

* * *

Katara focused on the fire. The flame was constant, comforting. Looking around meant trying to decipher the shadows dancing around their campsite, making her feel paranoid and nervous. Aang lay on his back next to her, awake but silent. Across the fire, Sokka and Toph had finally dropped off to sleep.

The four of them had been forced to make camp when it had grown so dark they couldn’t see in front of their faces. They were hopelessly lost in the swamp and they knew it – in trying to get away from the gory scene at the waterbender camp they had merely gotten even more tangled up in the place they were trying to get away from.

Toph had completely withdrawn into herself, which worried Katara. She had claimed to hear the voices of the dead waterbenders, unsure of where they were or what was happening. Once they had gotten farther away from the destroyed camp she had calmed down, until Sokka had begun gathering wood for a fire. Whipping out his machete, he had easily chopped a small branch from the tree they were camping under.

Toph had actually shrieked – shrieked like Sokka had cut her instead of the wood – and demanded “Stop that, stop that right now, don’t you dare do that again!”

Sokka had just given her a long-suffering look – he still remembered Aang and Katara giving him a hard time about taking his knife to the swamp. “Toph, we need to make a fire.”

“Don’t cut it! You’re _hurting_ it!” she’d insisted, putting her hands up to her ears.

Aang had put his hand on her shoulder. “Toph-“

“I can hear it! It’s actually screaming in pain! _Don’t cut it again_!” Her voice had grown more fevered, and Katara had started to fear that Toph would either faint or go into a fit.

Sokka had sighed in irritation and set about looking for wood that had already dropped from the trees.

The four of them had unanimously decided that two should stay up for watch at a time. Nobody could forget what they had seen of the waterbenders and there was an unspoken fear that whatever had done that could easily find them as well.

Aang had said right away he couldn’t sleep, and Katara had volunteered to stay up with him, giving Toph a chance to rest and calm her anxious mind while sparing Aang from Sokka’s complaining – while also hoping Sokka could keep Toph preoccupied during their watch.

Katara turned her head and gazed at Aang. He was distant, distracted. He wasn’t meditating, though his mind certainly wasn’t here at camp.

“Aang,” she called softly. He turned his head, looking at her quizzically. “What are we going to do tomorrow?”

“Find Zuko, find Appa, get out of here,” came his short answer.

Katara bit her lip, and then said hesitantly, “Aang, how do we even know Zuko is here?”

“We followed the trail. Sokka still has that bit of cloak-“

“The swamp’s played tricks on us before,” she interrupted him.

Aang’s eyes flashed at her as he sat up. “I know Zuko is here and I’m not leaving without him.”

“Aang, I don’t think we should stay here. This goes way beyond childhood fears – I’m afraid Toph is going to totally lose control. She is clearly hearing something that we’re not, and it’s not even like she’s someone who is scared easily.”

“Katara.” His voice was growing more annoyed, as if she was out of line to be bringing these concerns up. “Do you know what will happen if we leave this place without Zuko? How am I going to explain that to the rest of the world? Do you know what that means for the Fire Nation?”

“Then maybe we should leave and get help. We can come back and search for him.”

“Yeah, and find him one limb at a time,” he snapped sarcastically.

Exasperation shot through her. “Why don’t you want to admit that I might be right about this?”

Aang’s eyebrows creased. She could tell she was making him angry, but she couldn’t seem to make herself care. It was as if she had been _waiting_ for this. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re right, Katara. I don’t want to stay here anymore than you do. But I won’t abandon Zuko. I wouldn’t abandon any of you here.”

“I don’t want to _abandon_ Zuko. I want to get out of here alive and come back with our heads on straight, with proper help.”

_“I said I’m not leaving!”_ His voice rose this time, and Katara automatically looked over at Sokka and Toph, but neither stirred. He added quietly, “but you are more than welcome to leave in the morning, if you want.”

She snorted impolitely. “Like I’d ever abandon _you_.”

He did not miss her emphasis. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

“Well I’m glad you wouldn’t abandon me in a swamp, at least.” She was pushing her luck with him and she knew it, but Katara just didn’t care. She was tired, she was afraid, and she couldn’t understand why Aang wouldn’t see her point.

Aang blinked for a moment before understanding dawned in his eyes. “You’re talking about Ba Sing Se again, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice tight. She said nothing, confirming his statement. “Katara, I don’t know how to make you understand-“

“What I don’t understand,” she said, loudly talking over him, “is why it was such a big deal to just ask the king to allow me into the conference. I did everything I could for that conference except actually participate in it”

Aang dropped his head into his hands, clutching his scalp as if she was a puzzle and he was trying to think of a way to solve her. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up now. Why would you even- I don’t even know how to tell you-“

“Why I wasn’t good enough to negotiate?” In the back of her mind Katara wondered how the conversation had turned to this subject – they had started out discussing Zuko, and now they were back at the conference.

Aang jumped up, his face scrunched with anger. “Katara, I cannot have this conversation with you!” he yelled, clearly at the end of his patience. “You need to get over –“

“Sokka!” Katara jumped up next to Aang, instantly forgetting her anger. Aang looked at her, confused.

“What?”

Katara didn’t respond as she walked to the other side of the fire and held up two empty bedrolls, confirming her outburst: Toph and Sokka were gone. She and Aang had been too wrapped up in their argument to see what was happening right in front of them. Fear coursed through Katara, filling her with a cold dread. She looked at Aang, whose eyes had gone wide on his pale face.

“You didn’t see anything either, did you?” he asked quietly. She shook her head. “Well, we’re certainly not leaving now,” he said grimly. “Hopefully they’re still together.”

With a graceful movement, he lit the end of a branch on fire to use as a torch and pulled green water from the bank to douse the fire. “Come on.” He beckoned her towards the trees. “They can’t be too far. They were here just a minute ago.”

Silently, she followed him into the tangle of trees, her frustration with him momentarily forgotten.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neutiquam Erro: I Am Not Lost


	5. A Fortiori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when you're lost in a murderous swamp? You angst, of course.

A cold wave washed over Toph, jerking her from peaceful sleep. Her useless eyes popped open and she gasped in surprise – then choked on slimy water. She instinctively kicked out, trying to see what was happening, but the vibrations were hazy, her “vision” wavy and distorted.

Her arms were bound to her sides, and she struggled against the ties, trying to regain control. A muffled popping noise reached her ears as her strength easily broke the cord-like vines wrapped around her body. She pumped her arms and kicked her legs, and suddenly the cold night air was biting into her skin as she trembled in the chest deep water, trying to make sense of what she saw as her feet brushed the wet mud at the bottom of the water.

The ground rose in front of her and Toph thanked the spirits as her fingers finally found the slick earth and she pulled herself out of the water. Curled into fetal position, she shivered and listened carefully. Judging by the fact that there was no one splashing near her or complaining about the freezing cold water, she was now alone.

The last thing she could remember was falling asleep next to a small campfire with Sokka lying next to her and Aang and Katara keeping watch. If she was alone now it meant –

Toph couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought – the scene from the waterbender camp flashed through her mind – and she thrust her arms down hard into the ground, trying to create the widest picture she could, looking for any sign of her friends. There was nothing – no one – there. She was alone.

Dropping her forehead down to her knees, Toph let out a whimper, trying to control the fear rising through her. Her friends would not leave her behind or let her go. Something had to have happened to them.

The wind picked up around her, leaving her whole body shaking and her teeth chattering. It had been broiling hot during the day – she remembered how labored her and her friends’ breathing had been as they had run today – but the temperature in the swamp had dropped considerably and the blustering wind around her wasn’t helping.

_Gone… gone… gone…_

She shuddered at the whispers. Earlier at the gory scene at the waterbender camp she’d heart whispers – confused, terrified voices who didn’t know where they were or what had happened or how to find their loved ones – but this whisper was different.

This held a more sinister, dangerous tone – like it knew what had happened to her friends and that she would never see them again.

Toph could feel her face crumble as she held in the tears welling in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she squashed the fear down – deep down into her belly, because she knew that if she gave into fear now she’d never make it through the night, let alone out of the swamp.

The fear was replaced with guilt. She and her friends had been attacked and she had slept through it. She hadn’t helped them. She had let them die.

_Gone… gone… gone…_

Underneath the whispers Toph could barely make out a song – a high, clear melody that she had heard on the outskirts of the swamp when they were still looking for Zuko. At the time she hadn’t recognized it for what it was – the voice of the swamp itself. It sounded weak, as if it were in pain and slowly diminishing, but Toph could still hear it despite all the other noise in the swamp.

Suddenly beneath her came a large, black mass that momentarily cut off all her sight before disappearing as fast as it came. Jumping up to her feet, Toph fell into defensive posture, prepared to fight, but whatever it was that had passed under her was gone. Trying to control her quivering limbs, Toph tried to think of what could possibly move under the ground like that – it didn’t even have a clearly defined shape – but nothing occurred to her.

She definitely didn’t want to be around if it came back. One leg kicked out, then another. Nothing came back to her, and Toph decided to set off in a direction; she would either find some sign of her friends – if they were in the same state as the waterbenders then they deserved a proper burial – or she would run out of swamp. Anything was better than here, alone.

* * *

Zuko wasn’t aware that his eyes had drooped shut until a bright light flared suddenly, startling him. He jumped up, instantly in proper defensive form and ready to fight.

He was not surprised to find that there was nothing there. It wasn’t the first time during the night he had accidentally nodded off and been jarred from sleep by absolutely nothing.

Another light flickered out of the corner of his eye. His form was flawless as he twisted around –

\- and came face to face with his supposedly deceased father.

He let out a yell of pure panic and fell backwards; narrowly missing the tree he’d been curled up against. He scrambled up, snapping lower branches off the tree as he pulled himself up to meet this new threat.

The first time he had faced his father like this he had bowed and asked for forgiveness. The second time he had faced his father like this, he’d stood his ground at first, but faltered as the Avatar had stepped between them.

It was the third time in his short life that Zuko had faced his father, prepared for a fight, and this time he had no intention of stepping down.

Except that it didn’t appear that his father actually wanted to fight. He hadn’t moved or said a word as Zuko had tripped and righted himself. Zuko’s limbs twitched with energy, but he couldn’t bring himself to make the first move. They stared each other down, neither acknowledging the situation.

Finally, the tension unbearable, Zuko reached out and quickly jabbed at his father’s chest. Rock hard muscle met his fingertips, and Zuko pulled back and shot a blast of fire, hitting his father square in the chest.

Ozai didn’t move. Zuko nervously danced around, unsure of what was going on. He took another chance and again reached out with both hands, this time pushing all his weight into his father.

His father rocked back –

\- and it was no longer his father but a dead tree stump that now had Zuko caught up in its momentum. It crashed backwards through the steep bank, dragging Zuko with it.

He came to rest face down in a shallow pool. Again.

As he shook water from his hair, Zuko decided that if he ever got out of the swamp he was going to take up permanent residence in the great desert south of Ba Sing Se.

He crawled back up the bank he had fallen from and returned to the tree he had spent most of the night huddling against. The swamp had been hot and humid all day, but now that night had fallen he was freezing. Reaching up, he stripped a piece of bark from the tree to start a small fire.

The comfort of the fire – the warmth – made his eyes start to droop again, and though he fought against it with all his will he slipped into the world of dreams.

He dreamed of home, of his family and his childhood: meals with his parents, celebrating holidays in the capital, the soft smell of his mother and solid strength of his father – sweet memories that came to him when he needed comforting.

He’d had these dreams before, and they ended the same way: in fear, pain, and fire. Always fire.

The first time he was afraid that his father hadn’t loved him Zuko was six and his father had refused to skip court in order to attend one of his firebending lessons. It was a small thing – court was so important compared to a single lesson of his older son – but it was important to Zuko because he was learning his first form and he knew that his father had excused himself from court the week before hand to see his four year old sister’s lesson, which was nothing but _breathing exercises_. Azula would barely remember the lessons, let alone who attended them.

The second time he suspected that his father hadn’t loved him Zuko was nine, and his father had already arranged for Azula’s place at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls while Zuko was still being trained at the palace with a tutor. When he’d asked his father about it, instead of an answer he had received a lecture about bothering his father while he was trying to work – even though Azula was constantly dancing in and out of his office.

The third time he knew his father hadn’t loved him he was thirteen and his father had burned him and then banished him for speaking in the interest of a group of new recruits.

Even after his banishment and his subsequent acceptance that he didn’t have his father’s love, Zuko still held hope that his father was an honorable man. For three years he had hunted the Avatar, hoping to capture him and return home with honor if not love.

Part of him never let go of that hope, even after being named traitor – _traitor_, a word he could barely wrap his mind around – that he could be seen as honorable in his father’s eyes. Then the Avatar had defeated his father, and the war was won, and Zuko was sorting through years of records and had discovered exactly how his father had taken the throne out from under Iroh, and Zuko understood, finally, that his father had never been able to honor him because his father had had no honor himself.

Ozai had dreamed of making a name that would last generations, of winning his father’s war and achieving greatness, but when all was said and done his three most thorough successes had been a murdered father and wife, an alienated brother, and two damaged children.

Zuko dreamed of erasing Ozai’s name forever, of disbanding his father’s war and achieving greatness through peace. But when all was said and done, what was left was the scared, confused young boy who couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone because the first person he had trusted had abandoned him.

* * *

“Suki? Suki!” The little girl skidded into the doorway, nearly running into the wall in her excitement.

Suki’s shoulders dropped, her fans snapping shut. “Luli, I told you, you’re still too young to practice with us! Next year-“

“The Avatar is missing!” Luli’s eyes were bright and excited. “The Fire Nation is going to attack the Earth Kingdom!”

Suki’s face twisted into an expression of disbelief. “What are you talking about? The Fire Nation isn’t going to attack anyone.” Tucking her fans back into her belt, she walked up to the girl and grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt. “Why would you say something like that?”

“The fishermen at the dock told me!” Luli was wringing her hands but not attempting to break from Suki’s grip.

“And _what_ are you doing hanging out at the dock? You know your mother doesn’t like you going down there.”

“Suki, will you listen to me? The Avatar and the Fire Lord and the Companions are missing from the Earth Kingdom!”

“What do you mean they’re missing? They’re holding that conference. Everyone knows that.”

Luli shook her head, talking so fast she was tripping over her words. “They were at the conference and they woke up one morning and the Fire Lord was gone, along with the Avatar and Lady Toph and Katara and Sokka! They found the Avatar’s pet bison abandoned with no one with it!”

Suki stiffened at Sokka’s name. “That’s impossible. The Avatar does not just go missing.”

“It’s true!” Luli insisted. Suki just rolled her eyes and dragged the girl away to return her to her mother.

They found Luli’s mother having a tense discussion with the Oyajii. As soon as Suki saw the latter’s agitated stance and the former’s pale face she understood: Luli was telling the truth. Something really _had_ happened to the Avatar – and to Sokka.

“What’s going on?” she asked anxiously.

“Luli, go play,” her mother snapped. Suki released the girl and she took off, looking for her friends. The news would be all over the island by dinner.

“The Avatar has indeed gone missing,” Oyajii said. “The Fire Lord appears to have gone with him.”

“And the Companions?” asked Suki breathlessly.

Oyajii nodded, confirming her fear. “They left Ba Sing Se early without saying goodbye. The bison was found south of the Great Desert, still packed with supplies. There’s been no sign of them since. The Earth Kingdom is convinced that the Fire Lord is responsible, and citizens are starting to riot against the Fire Nation.”

“The fishermen who came to port this morning saw an official Fire Nation ship heading east towards the Earth Kingdom. Word has reached the Fire Nation that the Fire Lord is gone and they’re going to tear apart the Earth Kingdom to find him,” Luli’s mother said fretfully. “It’s going to start a whole new war!”

Suki was silent – she never talked about her experiences in the Earth Kingdom during the war, though she knew there were some who would gladly cut off an arm to find out.

“Kyoshi was peaceful until the end of the war. If another war starts, we will stay out of it if possible.” He slid a look at Suki. “We will protect our home first.”

Suki nodded and excused herself.

The last time she had seen Sokka, the war had been over for several months. She and her fellow warriors were slowly making their way home and had stopped for supplies in Gaoling. It just happened to be the same town that the Avatar and his friends were visiting to make peace with Toph’s parents.

Any hopes she’d had of seeing him were dashed when she went to the Bei Fong estate to find the crowd that had gathered outside, hoping to see a glimpse of the boy who had defeated the Fire Lord.

Therefore, it was a pleasant surprise to spot Sokka skulking in the shadows at the market place, his green bag stuffed with fresh fruits and vegetables. Not wanting to attract attention, she had snuck up on him, plucking an apple from his bag and biting into it. He’d spun around; instinctively reaching for his boomerang, then frozen as he’d seen her face.

“Given up on the meat?” she’d asked lightly, hoping it wasn’t obvious how thrilled she was to see him again.

He had shot her an aggravated look in reply. “The Bei Fong cook has apparently never heard of a vegetarian. Someone has to make sure Aang actually eats.”

Suki couldn’t believe the change in him – she would later muse that it made sense, considering the things he was just _rumored_ to have seen on his trip with the Avatar – and was momentarily speechless.

He’d grown taller, and broader. These things were to be expected in a growing teenager. But he’d also grown _older_. There was darkness in his eyes, a shadow of sorrow, a weariness of the world. Despite the victory he was celebrating, Sokka looked as though he had lost something dear to him.

Shyly, she had tried to make conversation with him, but it was difficult. She wanted, for his sake, to avoid discussion of the war and their travels, but what else had occurred in the time they had been away from each other? They both had their scars that they wanted to avoid mentioning, if they could, but that were so painfully obvious and on display that neither could focus on anything else.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” Suki had said finally, retreating for the time being. Before he could walk away, she’d taken his arm and tried one last time: “Do you think, maybe if you get a chance, that you would return to Kyoshi? For a visit?”

He had nodded, politely, and promised to visit, but the smile on his face was insincere and the light in his eyes never connected. The war had changed him and Sokka had moved on.

Suki had vowed to move on as well, and had honestly tried to. But once she had returned to Kyoshi, she found that despite all her experiences away from home in the war – the battles, the blood, the bodies – what stuck with her the most was the sight of his sad eyes refusing to meet hers. She couldn’t figure out what had happened to his _spirit_.

Others couldn’t figure out what had happened to _her’s_ – Suki certainly heard the whispers around the island. She resisted courting attempts and rarely socialized with anyone outside her family. Most chalked it up to the war “changing” her – “changing,” of course, being a metaphor for “causing her to go slightly crazy.” She ignored these people and focused on the girls and their training, keeping Kyoshi’s humble fighting tradition alive.

She avoided thinking about Sokka at all possible costs. More than once she had berated herself for allowing her mind to keep him so closely in her thoughts, when really she’d had three days, maybe, to get to know him. The rational part of her knew that if Suki only had that little amount of time to know him and Sokka had still managed to make that big of an impression on him, then he was worth thinking about. The irrational, hurt part of her knew that he was unfinished business, and if there was anything Suki hated, anything that made her feel helpless, it was unfinished business she was powerless to conclude for better or worse.

It was barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but around her activity on the island had picked up. Parents were holding their children closer – with the notable exception of Luli’s mother, Suki noticed with a half-smile – and locking their gates and houses up tighter, desperate to feel more secure. The atmosphere in Kyoshi had shifted from a normal, cool evening to a tense, cautious mood. Everyone was nervous. Everyone was mentally preparing for another war.

Suki watched the bustle around her and vowed to continue protecting her people, hoping, in some small and unlikely way, that she might be helping him, wherever he was.

* * *

The object of Suki’s thoughts was not having a good night. He’d been woken from a sound sleep – something that always made him exceptionally cranky, especially when he found out that he had been separated from his friends and was hanging, _upside down_, from a tree.

It was the upside down part that angered Sokka the most. Whoever had taken him – which he had slept through, he noticed with a stab of irritation at himself – couldn’t be bothered to flip him right-side up? All the blood had rushed to his head and he felt woozy, and someone was _certainly_ going to pay for it.

He yanked his machete from his belt and felt a new surge of annoyance – he wasn’t even good enough to disarm? Did his kidnapper really have such little faith in him? – and started hacking at his binds, making quick work of them. He crashed through the brush, hitting several branches on the way down, and landed hard on his back.

It hadn’t occurred to Sokka just how high up he’d been hanging.

Oh _yes_. It was going to be _very_ unpleasant when he encountered who was responsible for this.

Through the fog in his mind, he observed that there was a lot of light in a place that was considered dark and dank even at the height of day; pale, silvery light that his sister used to call “ghost light” when she was still little enough to come to him for comfort when she was afraid at night. Calm, soft light that used to fill him with a sense of peace until –

Something clicked in Sokka’s mind, and he twisted around to face her.

Yue.

Part of him wasn’t surprised. He’d seen her last time he was in the swamp, and she was still a part of his nightly thoughts, because even when he didn’t want to think about her, there she was, right above him, shining brightly.

Part of him _was_ surprised. He hadn’t seen her _face_ in so long…

He reached out, wanting to touch her, to see if maybe she was real this time, but she recoiled, and repeated the words that he had said to himself many nights when he was alone and cold.

“Why didn’t you protect me?”

He had wondered that himself, many times, and every time reached the same conclusion. Sokka could only shrug sadly and respond resignedly, “I’m sorry. I did everything I could.”

“Then why are you still here?” she asked, gesturing to the murky world he was lost in.

“We’re lost,” he snapped. “And I’m not leaving without my sister and Aang and Toph.” He turned his back on her, then stiffened. “Wait! You’re not even real! Why am I talking to _you_?”

When he turned back to face her indignantly again, she was gone.

Crushing disappointment filled him. He pulled his machete out again and started chopping at the foliage around him, muttering angrily to himself.

Seeing Yue had simply reminded him how he needed to find his sister and Aang and Toph and Zuko, if he really was here, because there was some homicidal _thing_ running around tearing people apart, and he’d be damned if they’d all survived the war only to die in this forsaken _swamp_, of all places.

There were several cracks and pops from behind him. His hand drifted up, ready to grab his boomerang at a moments notice. He wasn’t sure which he was more afraid of – something big and scary and life threatening, or seeing Yue again.

Sokka’d had several years to reflect on the short time he’d had with Yue. A measure of guilt had never left him, though deep down he had accepted the fact that he had tried to do everything he could for her – and that hadn’t been much to begin with, because who was he, a water tribe peasant, to argue with the will of the spirits?

Yue had affected him in other ways – Sokka knew full well that many were surprised at the fact that he hadn’t settled down and married yet. Most men in his tribe were _fathers_ by his age.

No matter how many nice girls he met, who came up to him, blushing and giggling and smiling shyly, he couldn’t stop comparing him to the vision in his head. Every time he thought about reaching out, pale hair and light eyes would flash in his mind, or the full moon would catch his eyes, and he would withdraw into himself and away from everyone around him.

He knew how his friends worried about him when these dark periods took him. Katara in particular worried about him – after the war she had originally taken great pride in introducing him to eligible ladies (in some small hope of distracting them from Aang), until she realized the effect this action was having on him. She quickly dropped this practice in an effort to protect him.

He was grateful for this, though he was far more inclined to feel he had to protect her than vice versa.

Which was why, determination welling up inside of him, he had to find her and Aang and Toph: to protect them – they were his family, and all he had. Nothing would happen to someone he loved that he could prevent – not again.

* * *

The countryside was quiet as Bao rode through it, trotting lightly on his ostrich horse. He’d left early, right before daybreak, slipping quietly out of Ba Sing Se and leaving King Bumi alone to try and keep control of the leaders and the roaring, angry public back in the Earth Kingdom city.

Spirits save the city of Ba Sing Se from Bumi, because he certainly wouldn’t be able to. He had a _mission_.

Bumi had told him to head south, past the Great Desert, to the small town where the Avatar’s bison had been found and was being cared for. He was to gather information, try to figure out of there had been any sightings of the Avatar before the bison was found and what direction they could have been heading in when they had disappeared; anything that could help in the search to find the Avatar and the Fire Lord and calm the public’s fury.

This was not his _current_ destination, however. To be honest, Bao wasn’t sure where his current destination lay – only that it wasn’t where he’d been told to go. On his way out of the city he’d been handed a flyer by a young man who hadn’t recognized Bao as the king’s heir.

The flyer was an editorial condemning the Fire Nation. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before – promising to speak with classified knowledge, general inflammatory language, warnings of shops being raided and children being kidnapped and women being raped. He had recognized it instantly, and laughed softly as he’d rode out of the city.

The rebel Jet would never change, but Bao thought he would at least go through the trouble of writing up a new editorial before sending them out.

“_Well_,” Bao mused. “_It’s not like the message would change_.”

The parchment was now tucked very carefully in his belt, ready to be pulled out at a moment’s notice. He would have to tread carefully and he knew it – it would not look good for him to be caught carrying something of that nature. Therefore, when he heard soft music floating down the road in front of him, he sat a little taller in his saddle, checking to see who was coming towards him and preparing himself to possibly go on the defensive.

A small group of five was heading down the road towards him – three men and two women. The man leading was plucking at a pipa, singing softly, though Bao couldn’t make out his words. He pulled up the ostrich horse as they neared him, not sure if they would even acknowledge him.

The leader was caught up in his song, now playing with more conviction, but one of the women noticed him. “Good morning sir,” she said gently, handing him a flower, similar to the ones that dotted the hillside, from her basket.

He nodded in greeting. “Good morning to you. Um, thank you for the flower.” He looked at it. “May I ask where you are traveling?”

The lady shrugged in response. The leader jumped as he suddenly noticed that they had a guest. “Hey man!” he greeted cheerfully. “We go wherever the road takes us. Where are you going?”

_Wherever the rebels are hiding_, but Bao couldn’t actually say that. “Wherever I need to be,” he said simply.

The man’s face lit up. “A soul brother!” The group behind him sighed and grinned, as if they couldn’t think of anything more pleasing. “What is your name, brother?”

Bao hesitated, unwilling to reveal his true identity. He grabbed the first name that popped into his head - that of his foster father. “Chong.”

“Hey _my_ name’s Chong!” His grin grew even bigger. “And this is my wife Lily.” She bowed to him. “Would you like to hear a song?”

Deeply uncomfortable, Bao searched for a way to gracefully exit the conversation, before deciding there was no way and that he would have to take an ungraceful exit. “Right. Maybe some other time. Thank you for the flower,” he said, nodding at Lily, “but I must be on my way.” He flicked the reins of the ostrich horse, which picked up at a trot. The hippies behind him simply turned around and started following him.

Now far out of his comfort zone – one of the first lessons of court was to respect the personal space of others - he resolved to ignore them, until curiosity overwhelmed him. Bao slowed the ostrich horse down, allowing the hippies to catch up beside him.

“Why are you following me?” he asked Chong.

“Man, we’re not following you. We’re following the road _with_ you.”

Nearly inarticulate with confusion, Bao pointed out, “But I’m _heading_ the way you _came_ from!”

Chong shrugged. “We’ll get back there sooner or later.” He then ended the conversation by pulling out his pipa again and strumming a tune, singing about winding roads and crossing paths.

Bao threw a look up to the heavens and wondered which was worse: being stuck in Ba Sing Se with mad King Bumi, or stuck traveling with a group of mad singing hippies.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Fortiori: With Yet Stronger Reason
> 
> RE: Suki's section. This is one shot only. She won't become a featured character or be appearing again in the fic. Freaking Secrets of the Fire Nation. Right before the spoilers for SotFN was released I had the idea to put a couple one shot sections in, showing various characters the Avatar has met and how the world is reacting to his disappearance as the news spreads and things are misunderstood and go crazy. Suki was the first one that popped into my head - and then that article was released about how she was in SotFN and her thing with Sokka and arrrgh.


	6. Venienti Occurrite Morbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of several important confrontations. Also, Katara is a wee bit irrational and Zuko makes an ass of himself.

Azula held her breath, not sure if she could believe what she was seeing. She could feel Ty Lee’s nails digging into her arm as she clutched it tightly. Mai was totally silent as together they watched the figure moving beneath them.

They had been moving through the swamp slowly, trying – and failing - to ignore the tension between them. Ty Lee was still afraid – now doubly so after the incident with Mai – and Mai was embarrassed and confused. Azula found herself growing less and less concerned with them. She had assured herself that once they got out of the swamp they would both recover and the three of them could move on. At least Azula hoped so, because the other two were slowly becoming insufferable.

Ty Lee had claimed to hear a sound – someone cursing and splashing as they waded through the water. She had hopped nimbly up into the tree and onto the thick branch that stretched over, going to check to see what new danger lurked. Azula had waited several minutes, but Ty Lee didn’t return, and worried (or hopeful? She could never tell the two apart) that she had found the firebender in the swamp with them, Azula scrambled up the tree to follow. Mai’s nails scratching on the bark followed behind her, and together they had caught up with the acrobat, who was staring calmly at the person who was wading through the thick water, oblivious to the girls’ presence above him.

Azula fought the urge to rub her eyes, but what were the chances he’d be the firebender in the swamp with them? He had no guards, no weapons – he wasn’t even in his official Fire Lord garb. He was dressed in plain traveling clothes. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she clenched her fists, feeling energy pump through her body, trying to come to grips with the fact that what she wanted was right here in front of her.

Unable to resist any longer, Azula dropped from the tree and landed right in front of him, arms out and ready to battle.

“Hello brother,” she purred, grinning like a cat that had caught its mouse.

His reaction was not exactly what she expected. Instead of looking either panicked or angry, he merely cast at her a world-weary look, as if to say “_not now, please_.”

“Great, another one,” he mumbled, putting his head down and trying to move around her.

Jaw dropping in confusion, Azula acted on the first thought that entered her head: she reached out and pushed him, just as she had done many times as a child.

He stumbled back, arms flailing, and hit the water. Coming up spluttering, he looked at her with an expression total disbelief.

“You’re _real_?” he asked incredulously.

“_Spirits, he’s totally lost his mind_!” Azula thought. She pumped her arm and shot a flame out at him. He rolled at the last minute, just barely dodging the blast. “Is that real enough for you?”

He picked himself up, falling into a defensive stance. “How did you even get here?”

She made no motion, considering him carefully. Even since the war, Zuko had grown considerably more talented in his firebending, while she was often forced to conceal the fact that she was a firebender, putting her slightly out of practice. She’d tried only one time since the war to bend lighting, and while she’d done it successfully, it no longer felt natural. Azula’d had a close call and she knew it.

Even then, she thought she was still the more powerful bender. They might only be evenly matched at this point. He could hold no advantage over her – especially in his currently addled state. “Brother, I challenge you to Agni Kai – for the throne.”

Zuko’s face barely changed, except for the noticeable gritting of the teeth. “You know I can’t refuse you.”

Azula’s grin grew even larger as she shook her head. “No, you can’t.”

They stared each other down, neither willing to make the first move. Azula was debating how best to approach Zuko, who was still looking as though he still wasn’t sure _what_ was happening.

Azula caught a lucky break – Mai chose that moment to slip and fall from the tree and land in the water next to her. Ty Lee hopped down gracefully to help her, and while Zuko was temporarily distracted by their interruption Azula pounced, flicking several bright blue flames at him that he easily avoided.

He struck back, kicking out and sending a fireball back at her. She noted, with considerable pleasure, that his flame was still orange.

Charging at him, she balled her now-flaming fists and aimed a hit at his stomach. He easily ducked and kicked her legs from beneath her. She twisted midair and barely kept her balance, fire shooting uncontrollably as she wheeled her arms. From the yelps to her right, she must have accidentally sent a flame Mai and Ty Lee’s way, but she ignored this as she was forced to jump again to evade another hit aimed at her legs.

She backed up, trying to get clearance to attack but he took this as a sign of retreat and pushed harder, backing her up against a tree. “Lost your touch, Azula?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

Despite being on the defensive, Azula gave him her brightest smile. “Just getting warmed up,” she panted, jumping up and flipping off of the tree and over him.

Zuko spun around and continued to throw flames at her, forcing her to dodge continuously. Azula found herself growing concerned – Zuko was better than she had feared.

The part inside her that hated to be wrong reared its ugly head, and, letting out a screech of frustration, Azula rose and went after Zuko with all she had. Zuko met her strike for strike, blocking her but not getting any hits in himself. The two of them quickly lost sense of everything that was happening around them, wrapped up in their own fire duel.

A scream reached Azula’s ears but did not register with her until she attempted to come at Zuko from above; after she jumped she was shoved hard from behind, and she stumbled down, her head snapping forward. Zuko looked surprised at the unexpected interruption, and Azula realized that Ty Lee was no longer with them.

Mai was fighting off vines with one of the longer knives she kept concealed in her sleeves. Azula took a step towards her to help, but suddenly her sight was filled with green and orange. Vines wreathed in flames enveloped her arms and legs, attempting to pull her every possible way. She lashed out with more blue fire, and they pulled away momentarily before reaching for her again.

Mai called out to her: “Azula we need to get out of here!”

Azula tried to fight her way over to Mai. Smoke filled the air around her, and still plants were trying to bind her and take her away. Behind her Zuko let out a yell, but for the moment Azula no longer cared about him and only wanted to reach her friend.

And suddenly, there was quiet. The vines retreated, leaving Azula confused – _were they retreating for a more powerful attack?_ – but nothing came. The trees and branches around her were all burning brightly and she wondered how a place so wet could burn so easily. Mai was gone, as was her brother.

But she wasn’t alone.

The flames suddenly exploded, reaching above her head, and from them he materialized, rising above her. Her eyes widened and jaw agape; she whispered the name of the man she hadn’t seen since she was twelve.

“_Zhao_.”

* * *

“I don’t understand! They were just with us! They couldn’t be too far away from us.” Katara voice was full of worry, and Aang wanted desperately to comfort her.

There was little comforting about their situation, however. There was absolutely no sign of Sokka and Toph, who they’d only recently been separated from, and even less sign of Zuko, who was the reason they were there in the first place. How could he expect to comfort her when he couldn’t even reassure himself that everything was going to be okay?

_Closer and close and closer…_

And it wasn’t encouraging that the voices he had heard in his nightmare were currently carrying on the wind, wrapping around his ears and sending an unholy shiver down his spine.

“Aang, what do you think is going on here? Can you sense anything?” Katara’s quiet voice broke through this reverie, startling him. He’d almost lost himself in the whispers…

“What do you mean?” he asked, sliding a glance at her. Her eyebrows were pulled and her lips pursed in thought.

“I mean, last time we were here, we each had some sort of experience, like this place was...” she trailed off in thought. “It just seems different…”

“What tipped you off? The scene at the waterbender camp?” He couldn’t help his sarcastic remark, but immediately felt bad when she looked sharply at him, a hurt look on her face.

“What I mean is, last time we were here, this place felt _alive_. But now it feels like it’s _dying_.”

Aang stopped and considered her words, and the truth inside them. The swamp felt, for lack of a better word, listless. The feeling of being watched was still there, but it felt different this time, more malicious: something that wasn’t the swamp itself but had attached itself to the swamp.

“Come on,” she said, taking his arm. “We need to find Sokka and Toph and get out of here. We don’t even know for sure that Zuko is in here.”

Zuko _was_ in the swamp with them – that much he knew for sure, but he chose not to argue as she took the torch from him and started leading instead.

She said something softly, and he called out to her, “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” she said flatly.

Aang knew Katara very well, and knew that muttering to herself was a dangerous sign of Katara’s impending temper. This time, instead of letting it drop, he poked at her.

“No, tell me what you said.”

She sighed. “I was just saying, if you had listened to me before, we could have left all together. Now we’re stuck.”

“We would still be leaving without Zuko!” Aang was starting to feel as if he were the only one who cared that Zuko was missing – Katara certainly didn’t seem worried about him.

“I told you, we don’t know that Zuko _is_ in the swamp! At least then we would have Sokka and Toph. It’s not like we couldn’t come back and search for him.”

“Katara, do you know how bad that would look for the Avatar to come out of the swamp with the Fire Lord missing? People will think I did something to him!” Aang couldn’t believe they were arguing about this _again_.

She turned to face him, swinging the lit torch in aggravation. “This isn’t even about Zuko, Aang. This is about you not listening to me!”

Aang felt his eyebrows crease in confusion. “It is?” Then it slammed into him – she was talking about Ba Sing Se. Again.

“It’s like you’re so caught up in all this work that you’re not even thinking about those around you anymore!”

“You think I’m _ignoring_ you?” he asked her incredulously. His betrothal necklace – the one he had spent weeks working on – gleamed from around her neck. Was she just forgetting about that?

“It’s not that you’re ignoring me, it’s that you don’t seem to care what I have to say anymore. Like you don’t care what I do or think or want.” Katara’s lower lip stuck out in a childish pout as she berated him.

Fire exploded behind Aang’s eyes. “You think I don’t care? You honestly think I don’t care about you? Did it ever occur to you that I’m doing all of this _for you_?”

She was quiet as he continued. “I don’t enjoy doing all this work. I’m doing it for you, and for our family, so _our kids_ don’t have to grow up in a war with nations fighting! So they don’t have to know what it’s like to have to grow up without a mother or make the sacrifices that we made or fight just to survive!”

A blush crept across Katara’s face and she looked down, not meeting his eyes. “I didn’t know you thought that far ahead – about our family,” she said after a long pause.

Aang just looked at her. “Katara, I’m the _last airbender_.”

Her head stayed down and she didn’t respond. Aang turned away from her and dropped his head with a thunk onto the nearest tree trunk.

Instantly everything went white and fire filled his mind. He jumped away, but the world was hazy and out of focus. All he could see were shadows circling around him. He could hear Katara calling his name in panic, but it sounded distant, as if she was far away. Aang closed his eyes, trying to get his bearings, and when he opened them he found he was lying on his back, in a cold sweat, staring up through the black canopy above him.

He shot up, wildly looking around.

“Katara?” he called softly, hoping she was nearby. There was no response.

“Katara!” he said louder. Nothing.

Fear gripped him. Katara was alone in the swamp – _he_ was alone in the swamp. And he had no idea what to do next.

_Not much longer… he’s so close…_

And the whispers weren’t helping either.

* * *

He had known something was wrong when he walked into lunch and was greeted by silence.

Iroh stood by his chair at the head of the table, studying the blank looks of the remaining advisor’s gathered around the table. He looked down his front. “Are my robes dirty?”

There was very noticeable nudging among the gathered advisors, moving down the line until it reached the end of the table where Cai would have been seated. Iroh’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Guiren. “Is there something I need to know?” Guiren’s face turned bright red.

“General Iroh, sir…” he scratched his head and stared down at the table. “There has been additional news from the Earth Kingdom. Apparently in their haste to inform you about Lord Zuko, they left out a very important part of the message.”

There was a long pause. Guiren elbowed the advisor next to him, who then produced several pieces of parchment.

“What your original report left out was that it is not just Lord Zuko who is missing,” Guiren said hesitantly. “It appears that the Avatar and the Companions disappeared along with him.”

Iroh looked at the report, skimming over their words, then looked back up at Guiren, raising an eyebrow.

“Also, most of the citizens of the Earth Kingdom have decided that Lord Zuko is responsible for the Avatar’s disappearance and they’re rioting against us,” Guiren added quickly.

Iroh read through the documents again before looking up. “Where’s the servant? I would like some tea. Where’s my tea? Real jasmine tea, please.”

The servants complied immediately, and the table watched silently as Iroh poured a cup, drained it in one sitting, and poured another. Then, letting out a deep sigh, he opened his eyes.

“Does the Nation know about this?” he asked.

“Not yet. The public doesn’t know of either Lord Zuko’s or the Avatar’s disappearance. Only a few merchants have reported back, and we’re trying to keep it as quiet as possible. It’s only a matter of time, however.”

“I imagine,” Iroh said dryly, “that they will take it as well as the Earth Kingdom citizens.” He put down the papers and rubbed his forehead. “This information would have been far more helpful yesterday. It changes everything.”

“How does it change-“ understanding dawned in Guiren’s eyes as he made the connection between Iroh’s words and Cai’s empty seat next to him. “You mean..?”

“The merchants I met with several days ago told me that Azula had been seen and was on the move. When I heard Lord Zuko was gone I assumed she was responsible. But _these_!” he gestured to the reports in front of him. “These are telling me that he disappeared with the Avatar and his companions from the walls of Ba Sing Se – from the palace itself!” He shook his head. “I could have sworn Azula was involved, but I don’t see how she could have been able to orchestrate something like this.”

“So you sent Master Cai, thinking that you were sending him to capture Azula…” Guiren trailed off.

Iroh nodded. “I sent him on a fully stocked war ship with his own unit, intending for him to track down Azula and Lord Zuko and return them to the Fire Nation.”

Guiren bit his lip. “They probably aren’t going to wait around long enough for the bit about Azula, are they?”

Iroh shook his head. “It will be seen as an act of war.”

* * *

He was being dragged at top speed through the forest. Her hand was clamped firmly around his wrist and he entertained no hope of breaking her grip.

“Um,” Zuko called, trying to get Mai’s attention. She ignored him, continuing to run through the trees, pulling him behind her. He tried to think of a better opening for conversation, and eventually settled on pulling all his weight away from her, and demanding loudly “Stop!”

Mai turned around sharply, still holding onto him. As soon as she saw his face – _his eye_ – she dropped his wrist as if he had burned her. Her face turned bright red.

“I... I thought you were Azula – it was so smoky, I couldn’t – I couldn’t _see_.” She tripped over her words, not making eye contact.

Zuko said nothing, silently contemplating her for a moment. He opened his mouth - though he wasn’t quite sure what he was about to say – but before anything came out something large moved in the trees above them. There was a sharp cracking noise, then a heavy blow to the top of Zuko’s head that snapped his head forward. He reeled back to compensate, tripped on the large tree branch that had just crashed into him, and hit the ground, only catching sight of Mai’s horrified face on the way down.

Zuko went in and out of consciousness for a couple minutes, but eventually the dancing blobs in front of him coalesced into Mai’s pale faces. He felt a sharp sting on his cheek as she tried to get his attention.

“Zuko?” she called uncertainly, hands at his shoulders.

He just stared at her blankly for a moment, not sure what to make of the situation. She had hunted him. She had sharp knives. But she didn’t appear to be immediately threatening him with said knives – she actually appeared to be slightly concerned. Also, he liked her long black hair.

A grin spread on his face as he decided he was happy to see her, even if he couldn’t decide which of her faces to focus on. “Hi. Is your hair really that straight?”

She looked at him and then pulled his head forward to look at the part that had been hit. “You’re not bleeding.”

He waved her away. “I feel just fine. Little dizzy, maybe. Little tired. Maybe if I just laid down here for a second…” he started to shift to the ground, but Mai’s hands pulling at his shoulders stopped him.

“I don’t think you should sleep. You should stay awake and talk to me.”

“You don’t wanna talk to me,” he spat. “You just wanna talk to my _sister_. I wanna _sleep_.” He made another attempt at lying down, but there were her hands again, pulling at him and making him sit up.

Mai sighed as she kept him upright. “Clearly, it is my place in life to take care of debilitated Fire Royalty,” she muttered to herself.

“Go debilitate yourself,” he replied angrily, feeling defensive all of a sudden.

Mai blathered on, asking him questions that he was barely slurring out answers to. Questions about home, about people she knew, about the Fire Nation court and the changes he had made. He couldn’t believe she cared – she certainly hadn’t when she was welcomed there.

Although, he reasoned calmly with himself, he had certainly welcomed any news from home when _he_ had lived in exile. Feeling pleasingly enlightened, he dropped his head to his shoulder and watched the two of her blurry forms move through the hazy world.

Her long hair – with not a single bit of swamp muck in it, he noted - swished around as she paced, and he followed the graceful curve of one of her necks. Her shoulders were still straight and tall – he was amazed at the fact that she moved with such dignity after everything she’d been through. Especially considering she was wearing a pair of boots that were two sizes too big.

Her voice turned into a soothing, dull buzz, and his eyes slowly slid shut. It felt like he was falling, until he felt her cool hands on him again, pulling him up and demanding that he talk to her.

He opened his eyes, took in her light grey ones, fuzzily circling around, and said the first thing that spilled into his mind. “Be my queen.”

A stunned look crossed her faces. “What did you just say to me?”

“You should be my queen.” He searched for a way to explain it. “You have dignity – a queen_ needs _dignity.”

“Though apparently a king doesn’t,” she said in a disgusted manner. Mai grabbed him by the arm and attempted to haul him up. “Come on.”

“What are you doing? Hey!” the world spun around him as she forced him up and made him move.

“We can’t just _stay_ here,” she explained as if he were a child. He grudgingly accepted her help to stay balanced, and he leaned on her as they navigated through the thick woods.

The ground beneath Zuko shifted suddenly - many encounters with Toph had taught him quickly what the sensation was like – and he grabbed even tighter to her to keep from falling. He succeeded only in pulling Mai down with him, and together the two of them rolled down the sloping bank.

Zuko landed with a splash back in the slimy green water. He sat up, wiping his hair out of his eyes – _again_ – and once he could focus again he realized that, unbelievably, Mai had managed to stay out of the water.

She sat up, pulled a leaf from her hair, and threw him a look as if to say, “Are you coming?”

He pulled himself out of the water, stumbling towards her and trying to keep the tilting world straight. “I really think you should think about being my queen.”

* * *

The swamp was so quiet now that it had calmed.

“_It’s almost_,” Ty Lee thought, running her hand over the bark, “_As if it were resting_.”

Azula had been too caught up in her Agni Kai with Zuko to notice that she and Mai were being attacked. Mai had tried to help her, but quickly got tangled up in her own problems. Ty Lee had held her own at first, but she had been taken by surprise and, quite frankly, she was best at fighting other _people_ due to her knowledge of the human body. The vines had wrapped quickly around her knees and her waist, rendering her almost immobile and it wasn’t like she could just strike them and block their chi. As she lost her balance and tipped forward, the vines had pulled her up into the trees. She’d lost sight of her friends.

High in the trees the vines had loosened and, not sure if she was being let go or if she was going to be dropped, Ty Lee had pulled against them, breaking the vines, and let herself fall. Flipping, she’d landed easily on a thick tree branch high in the canopy over the swamp, and waited patiently for the vines to regroup and come after her again.

Nothing had happened.

She had shifted uneasily in her stance, determined not to be caught off-guard.

Still nothing had happened.

Ty Lee had decided to chance a few steps forward, then a few steps backwards. Still there had been no reaction, so without a second thought she’d leapt off the tree branch onto a lower one, trying to work her way back down to her friends.

The scene back at the bottom level had shocked her. Azula and Zuko’s Agni Kai had totally devastated the surrounding area – what remained of the trees and plants were charred and destroyed. She’d covered her nose, trying to breath through the horrible stench that permeated the air, then abandoned the effort and hopped back up into the trees and away from the area. Her friends had abandoned the area anyway.

It was a curious thing Ty Lee found as she hopped between branches, looking for sight of her friends. Ever since they had entered the swamp she had been scared beyond belief, sure to her soul that they could not make it out of there alive.

But now, away from her friends, away from Azula – she couldn’t help but feel as if a weight had been lifted.

She was still afraid – the swamp was dark and smelly, and she could still feel that she was being watched if not immediately threatened – but she no longer felt like the main target. The eye of the swamp had been distracted from her.

That didn’t mean that strange things didn’t continue to happen around her; when the wind whipped through the trees it sounded as if there was someone speaking, a soft sigh that she could only barely make out. It seemed that the more she tried to ignore it the louder it became.

Still, Ty Lee found that she was moving through the trees confidently and with ease. She felt like someone who had been saved from drowning, who could finally breathe easily again.

Dropping back down to the ground, she worked her way through the trees, trying to track her friends. Azula and Mai would continue heading north towards Omashu, so her best chances of running into them meant she had to head that way also.

Ty Lee grinned when she came upon some branches and vines that been cut clean through. Mai and her knives had to be close. Following the trail of slashed vegetation, she kept a sharp eye out for her friend – somehow, she knew Azula and Mai had been separated and that Azula wasn’t nearby. There was a distinct lack of scorched vegetation that would tip her off to Azula’s presence.

She reached a small clearing, where the trail ended. Ty Lee paced back and forth for a moment, debating which way to take, when she finally called out Mai’s name in frustration.

There was, of course, no answer. From behind her she heard soft footsteps brushing against the plants and the quiet _shink_ of a metal weapon. Sighing with relief she turned around to meet her friend.

Her words of greeting were lost in the two very high-pitched shrieks that followed.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Venienti Occurrite Morbo – Meet Misfortune as it Comes


	7. Natura Nihil Fit in Frustra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara finally gets the message; reunions are made.

There were certain things Katara had gotten used to when it came to living with Aang. She became accustomed to meeting large and possibly dangerous animals up close and personal – and used to dragging Aang away from said animals when they tried to kill him. She learned to give up on ever having elaborate hairstyles, which were always inevitably mussed up by a sneeze or the rogue air scooter. She learned to be less cynical as she grew used to endless, boundless, enthusiasm from the very person who regularly witnessed the lowest of mankind’s points.

But most of all, she grew used to feeling astonished. Frequently. Aang was the master of the pleasant surprise, knowing how to spring on her anything from a small gift – usually some shiny trinket that he picked up and put in his pocket – to some silly trick – “You’re right Aang, it _can_ rain indoors,” – to the smallest comment – once he’d stopped listening to Sokka on how to compliment a lady – just to make her smile.

Katara was certainly feeling surprised, but not pleasantly so.

Aang had just been next to her before he disappeared – literally, into thin air. Though the timing was suspect and she knew she had upset him, Aang wasn’t the type who would desert her in a dangerous situation just because he was mad. She hoped that Sokka and Toph were still together, just so they weren’t all totally separated.

Swinging the torch around, Katara confirmed that she was, in fact, truly alone.

“Aang?” she called softly.

Soft blue light filtered through the trees – too bright to be the moon, but too soft to be fire. Creeping quickly, Katara cautiously headed towards it, curious to see what could be making such a glow.

One of her favorite sounds reached her ears – the soothing splash of water. Instantly calming a bit, Katara picked up speed, hoping that a waterbender from the dead camp they had found earlier had perhaps survived the slaughter.

What she saw was something she hadn’t seen in a long time: traditional Southern Water Tribe wear. A tall, slim form was standing on the bank, wearing the bright blue parka and furs typical to her tribe, bending the water into large waves with ease. When she turned, braid flying, Katara made out the ice blue eyes that so many in her tribe bore, though she quickly forgot about that when she spied what was hanging from the girl’s neck.

Katara’s hands flew to her neck, confirming that her betrothal necklace was, in fact, still hanging there and had not been lost. The same necklace – exact slim blue band and carving – was fitted snugly around this other waterbender’s neck.

She shifted uncomfortably, and snapped several branches. The waterbender halted immediately, water freezing with her movements, before turning and making eye contact with Katara.

Everything inside her told her to turn and run, but instead Katara pointed at the girl’s neck and demanded, “_Where_ did you get that?”

An inquisitive look crossed the girl’s face. “Who are you?”

Katara crossed her arms. “You’re from the Southern Water Tribe. Who are you? And where did you get that necklace?”

The girl just blinked at her. “I don’t know you.”

Katara gasped, sucking air sharply between her teeth as a numb, hurt feeling started in her chest. The girl’s words had cut deep, strangely. She didn’t know this girl either – so why would it matter if this girl didn’t know her? Before Katara could say anything, the girl stuck her arms out and spun. A strong breeze came through, blowing Katara back several steps. She threw her arm up to protect her face, and when she looked again the girl was gone. Katara was alone again.

The desire to find Aang surged through her. _He would go up into the trees_, she thought, looking up into the canopy above her. Katara, however, had never quite gotten the hang of swinging around in trees the way the airbender had.

She was contemplating the tall tree in front of her when the ground beneath her rumbled, causing her to lose her balance. Steadying herself on the trunk, Katara looked around, waiting for the source of the tremors.

The ground quivered again, and this time Katara stumbled. The ground actually parted and out popped another girl, still in form. She was dressed in a manner similar to Toph, with loose, short slacks and billowy green sleeves. Her dark brown hair was held back in a familiar way also – pulled away from her face with a familiar looking blue band, the charm anchored securely at the back of her head.

The outfit didn’t surprise Katara – copies of Toph’s Blind Bandit outfit had become popular amongst some of the younger female earthbenders, especially those who attended her academy. The hair band though… Katara fingered the charm at her neck. Who were these people, and why did they have her necklace?

Her question was quickly answered when the Earth Kingdom girl spun around and froze the water that Katara had quietly been gathering.

They made eye contact, and Katara blurted out, “You’re the Avatar, aren’t you?”

The girl nodded slowly, then asked, “Who are you?”

_The Avatar didn’t know who she was_. The realization shocked her, and Katara couldn’t bring herself to respond. They stood there for a moment, the sliver of ice connecting them. Then the girl pulled the water away from Katara, and in a flurry of movement disappeared.

Katara sucked in a breath. Aang. All she wanted was to see Aang. All other emotions – fear of the swamp, concern for her friends, sadness for the waterbenders – were pushed aside by this overwhelming single minded need to find Aang and be close to him.

_They were following the cycle_, she realized suddenly, interrupting her own thoughts. First a waterbender, then an earthbender. That meant-

She heard a dull roar behind her, and Katara ducked instinctively. A bright blue flame sailed over her head, evoking memories (a sinister voice, a bored sigh, and a singsong laugh) she had tried her hardest to forget.

There behind her stood the next firebending Avatar, eyes glowing and hair flapping in the full glory of the Avatar state. His red armor made him appear large and powerful as he loomed over her. Katara’s first impulse, as with Aang, was to comfort him, to reach out and calm him until this pain passed.

Then he rounded on her again and shot another powerful flame towards her. As Katara spun away, something caught her eye – the leather band wrapped around his wrist, blue charm tucked in snugly to keep it from getting in the way.

“Who are you?” he snarled. “What do you want with me?”

She shuddered at the unearthly voice that reminded her of more memories she wanted to avoid.

Katara ran. She wasn’t afraid of Aang when he went into the Avatar state because she knew he would never hurt her – but this Avatar _didn’t_ know her. The thought was too painful for her to bear, and she focused all her thoughts on finding the airbender.

She splashed into the stream, wading through the knee-deep water, though there was no reason to hurry, as the firebender wasn’t following her. Katara turned around, looking for him. Nothing was there.

“Aang!” She didn’t expect a reply and wasn’t surprised when no call was returned to her.

She kept her eyes up in the trees, looking for any sign of her betrothed. The swamp was starting to get lighter, and she knew it must be close to morning – meaning they had been separated almost all night. Katara groaned out Aang’s name again, trying to fight the sudden wave of drowsiness that overtook her when she realized she had been up all night.

A curious thought entered her mind suddenly; Katara froze as she realized that she had only seen three Avatars. No airbender had appeared to her.

There wasn’t another airbender.

* * *

There was a blizzard approaching, judging by the clouds and the waves, and the entire tribe was pensive and nervous. Hakoda could feel it as soon as he stepped from his igloo into the brisk evening air. It was not yet dark out, and he cut through the village, working his way to the south wall where Bato and several waterbenders were working to build and strengthen it before the storm hit.

Bato was in deep conversation with Kaskae, the current acting chief of the Southern Water Tribe, a waterbender from Hakoda’s fleet who’d become immensely popular with the women and children of the south since their return. “Ah, Hakoda,” Kaskae held out an arm in greeting, gesturing to the white wall behind him. “What do you think?”

Hakoda looked at Bato, who avoided eye contact. Giving the wall a critical eye, Hakoda tilted his head and gave a small shrug. “When the storm hits it’ll probably sag a bit, but I don’t think it’ll break.”

Kaskae smiled pleasantly, apparently pleased with Hakoda’s words, but Bato said nothing, still refusing to look at Hakoda. Eyebrows creasing, Hakoda reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

Bato finally turned and looked at Hakoda, who was stunned at the anguish in his eyes.

“What happened?” Hakoda breathed, instantly concerned.

Bato put a hand up to his chin, stroking lightly as he considered his words. “A supply ship from the islands north of here came in this morning with some news.”

Hakoda felt a sinking feeling in his chest. “About..?’

“There was some sort of incident in Ba Sing Se. Fire Lord Zuko and the Avatar fled the palace with –“

“Katara and Sokka?” Hakoda interrupted, grabbing Bato’s shoulders.

Bato nodded.

“What happened to them?” Hakoda demanded.

His friend shook his head. “No one’s sure. They found the Avatar’s bison south of the Great Desert, loaded down with supplies for five people. The Lady Bei Fong was with them as well, and all five of them have just disappeared. There hasn’t been word or a sighting of them in several days.”

The emotion inside Hakoda rose up, powerful and overwhelming. He dropped his arms from Bato’s shoulders and took a breath to calm himself, before saying quietly, “I’m retiring for the evening.”

He looked back up at the wall. “The blizzard will prevent any other ships or news from coming in. We’ll be the last to hear any news.”

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Bato said softly. “If you need me…” The offer was useless and they both knew it.

As Hakoda walked back to his little igloo – he was the only one who lived in it, anymore – he could feel the eyes of the village on him, hear the mutters (words such as “gone”, “disappeared”, and “war” carried on the wind), and feel the tense air of expectation.

Everyone was aware of how much Hakoda missed his children, always away from home and traipsing through distant countries. Hakoda had accepted their roles in the world with minimal complaint. They had found their destinies and even though it meant they no longer lived in the South Pole, who was he to stand in the way of what they had to do?

Not having his only family with him meant that Hakoda had thrown himself into rebuilding the South Pole after the war. Using the foundation that the Northern Tribe had given them, he had helped spearhead the movement to expand and renovate. The South Pole had transformed from the sad bundle of igloos had it been when he had left his children alone with their grandmother.

Now he was the one who was alone.

Hakoda had never admitted this, but he had known the first time he had seen them after the war that they were a lost cause, that they had been lost forever to something bigger than him. He and his fleet were working their way back down to the South Pole and the Avatar and his children had tracked them down and found them on an island just south of Kyoshi.

Sokka and Katara had thrown themselves into his arms, and he’d hugged them tightly, shocked into silence at the sight of them not only alive but also healthy. Bato had warned him after those couple days he had spent with the trio, but nothing could truly prepare them for the warrior and the waterbender who greeted him. He couldn’t believe how they had grown – not just physically, but mentally and spiritually. His children had become adults while he was gone.

Katara had shyly introduced him to the Avatar – _the Avatar_ – who had timidly shaken his hand and bowed, clearly nervous to be meeting him. This had confused him – _the_ _Avatar_ \- until when he later related the story to Sokka over skins of wine and was confused as his son had laughed. “Aang wanted to impress you, Dad. He’s going to want to marry Katara someday.”

Hakoda just looked at his son (funny that no matter how many times he had practiced or imagined what he would say to his children when he saw them again, he often found that his mind was blank around them) and asked quietly, “Does she feel the same?”

Sokka nodded and tilted his head back, stretching out and relaxing. “Yeah, there was nothing I could do. I tried too. I banished him from the tribe and everything.”

All three of them returned with him for a short while before leaving the South Pole again. The Avatar had work to do for the whole world and they had pledged to help them. Katara and Sokka came to visit him as much as possible – it was during their last visit, right before they had departed for Ba Sing Se, that the Avatar had finally asked for his permission to marry Katara.

Sokka, thankfully, had warned him about it beforehand. Hakoda had kept a straight face (barely; he’d wanted to laugh _so badly_ at the boy’s eagerness), admired the necklace that was presented to him accordingly, and gave his permission – though he harbored a secret suspicion that Katara would be _furious_ at the idea that the men in her life were asking for her as if she were a personal item.

He wondered where his children were, and if they were okay. He wondered how the world would handle the Avatar disappearing again.

He wondered if Aang had even had the chance to give Katara the necklace before they had disappeared.

* * *

Sokka’s knuckles turned white as he gripped his machete. The girl in front of him recovered from the shock of running into him and dropped out of her fighting stance as quickly as she had gone into it, relaxing almost insultingly fast.

“Oh,” Ty Lee said. “You’re not Mai.”

Sokka continued to hold the machete up defensively, wondering exactly what she was doing. Ty Lee was neither acting as a threat nor treating him as one, which confused him. Therefore, the best solution – or at least, the one that made him feel most secure - was to keep the machete out, ready to fight if needed. “What are you doing here?”

Ty Lee just raised an eyebrow as she looked at him quizzically. “Probably the same thing you are. I’m looking for my friends.” She glanced at his weapon. “You can put that away. I don’t want to fight you.”

“I don’t trust you.” He growled, raising the machete higher as if instinctively preparing for an attack. “And I’m not afraid to fight you.”

She turned around, sighed, and in the blink of an eye had jumped around him. Before he could react, Sokka felt sharp jabs in both his arms, and suddenly the machete was no longer in his hands but gleaming softly in the foliage on the ground.

His arms waved uselessly beside him. Ty Lee put her hands on her hips and gave him a knowing look. “You have about a half hour before you gain full feeling in your arms again. Still want to fight?”

Sokka pouted at her, unsure of what to say or what she wanted, trying hopelessly to move his arms and prove her wrong.

Ty Lee picked up the machete and gave it a couple test swings. “This isn’t a bad weapon. Mai’s knives are probably more useful though.” She took a step towards him, coming dangerously close. “Do you keep this in your belt?” she asked, reaching for his midsection.

“Hey! _Hey_!” Sokka hopped backwards, half panicked, trying to keep his balance as his arms waved ineffectually. He stopped and glared at her, while she looked at him inquisitively. “I _like_ my personal space. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my sister and my friends.”

He turned his back and started to walk off, silently thanking the spirits she hadn’t blocked the chi in his legs.

“Hey!” She followed him. He walked faster, but she caught up easily, thrusting the machete in his face. “Don’t you want your weapon?”

“You keep it,” he said, turning again and trying to get away. She doggedly pursued him.

“You don’t think you’ll need it?”

“What do you want with me?” Sokka burst in frustration.

“Well,” she said slowly, a hand wrapping thoughtfully around her braid and weaving it between her fingers. “This doesn’t exactly seem like a safe place. Maybe we’d be safer if we weren’t alone… until I find my friends.”

“Yeah and then you find your friends and _then_ what? I’m sure Azula would just _love_ to see me,” he snapped.

She bit her lip. “Maybe we won’t find Azula at all. We could worry about it when it happens,” she suggested.

He gaped at her.

“You’re arms are still paralyzed for a little while yet. Do you really want to be alone without the use of your arms?” she pointed out.

He sighed. “Alright. Let’s go.”

“We’re going north!” she said immediately, almost cheerfully, and took off through the thick trees, bounding through the brush and joyfully swinging his machete back and forth, though he noted she was taking special care not to actually cut anything.

He glowered at her back. “You’re just lucky that I wanted to go that way in the first place.”

* * *

The plinking of the guitar strings followed him down the road, the rhythm matching the one Bao had established with his ostrich horse.

He had vowed early on that he would not destroy the hippie man’s little instrument – it was one of his few earthly possessions – but Bao was dangerously close to breaking that vow as they traveled through the Earth Kingdom. His fingers were clutched tightly around the reins, trying hard not to fantasize yet again about grabbing the guitar out of the man’s hands and smashing it over his head.

“You know Chong, you’re awfully tense,” the hippie said conversationally, momentarily abandoning his guitar.

“I am _not_ tense!” Bao snapped back automatically, instantly forgetting his second vow to totally ignore any voices behind him.

“See?” Chong held out his arms, as if that was all the proof he needed. The group behind them clucked their tongues sympathetically. “Chong, my brother, you need to learn to step back and stop looking at the road ahead of you and appreciate everything that’s _around_ you.”

Bao’s left eye started twitching. The group entered a small forest of thick trees.

“This looks familiar,” Lily wondered out loud.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Chong agreed before calling out to Bao, “Have you been here before, Brother Chong?”

Bao put a finger up to his eye to quell the racing twitch. He was so focused on keeping his vows that he barely caught the movement in the trees above him in time, raising a rock to repel the two arrows that had come whistling out through the trees.

Chong stared at the broken arrows on the ground. “That’s familiar too!”

Bao ignored him, swinging down from the ostrich horse and glaring up into the trees, searching for the duo he knew to be responsible for the arrows. They were as clever as ever with their hiding places, and finally Bao bellowed out a command for them to show themselves.

They dropped out of the trees directly behind him; it was only by pure force of will mixed with years of discipline from training that Bao did not jump into the air and shriek in a rather ladylike manner. (Not, Bao would always insist, that he had ever been known for that, nor, he would go on to assert, would the Freedom Fighters go out of their way to startle him whenever possible.)

Smellerbee smirked at him. “You’ve gotten better! You didn’t jump at all.”

Bao glared at her. “You _haven’t_ gotten better. Longshot wouldn’t have missed.”

“We weren’t sure if it was you or not. Didn’t want to take the chance.” Smellerbee easily shrugged off his criticism.

“Oh yeah, I remember now!” Chong interrupted their reunion. “We have been here before! You’re the guys with the arrows!”

“You guys _again_?!” Smellerbee asked exasperatingly. Longshot sighed.

“You’ve met?” Bao asked, barely keeping the hint of amusement out of his tone.

“They’re the guys with the arrows!” Chong exclaimed, as if that explained everything. “We tried to tell them about how going around shooting things with the arrows is pointless, you know? Violence leads to nothing, and who wants nothing, with all this something?” He threw his arms out to illustrate his point.

Smellerbee gave Bao a sidelong glance. “We kicked them out of the forest.”

Bao made eye contact with Longshot, who shrugged and flicked his eyes upward.

“Well!” Bao clapped his hands loudly and took the reins to his ostrich horse again. “What I’m going to do is go along with these two now-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Chong held up his hands, putting them placatingly on Bao’s chest. “Are you thinking clearly? These guys,” Chong gestured to Smellerbee and Longshot. “They don’t respect nature, they don’t respect the journey, they-“

“I what?” Smellerbee interrupted hotly, but Bao merely shook his head.

“But you see, Chong, you’re guidance has helped me!” Bao gave the hippie his brightest smile. “So what I need to do now is move on and pass that guidance on.”

Chong eyed the duo warily. “I can help them.” Bao pressed the reins of the ostrich horse in his hands. “And as thanks, I give to you my animal. I shall no longer have need of it,” he said in his most magnanimous tone.

The hippies bought it hook, line, and sinker. There were smiles, there were tears (from Chong) and there was hugging, which made Bao intensely uncomfortable, but he had accomplished his goal. The hippies would continue on without him.

He turned his back and Longshot and Smellerbee had already taken off into the trees. He jumped up onto a lower branch, following them easily – far more easily than he had anticipated, being several years out of practice.

They flitted between branches and trees, climbing higher and higher until finally Longshot paused and wordlessly pointed up to a wooden platform – invisible from the ground - that had been constructed near the top of the tree, on the strong branches that were scarce this high up.

“He’s been directing everything from up there,” Smellerbee whispered reverently. “He hardly ever leaves, but he still knows everything that’s going on.”

“Jet is hiding up there?” Bao asked incredulously.

“He’s used to roughing it,” Smellerbee said defensively. “And he’s been waiting for something like this.”

The two declined to climb the rest of the way up with him. Carefully picking his way through the branches – he was so stocky, and more than once he heard ominous creaks – he made his way up to the wooden platform, pulling himself up and peeking over the edge to look inside.

There he was, his back to Bao, sitting crossed legged in a meditation position like some eccentric genius. He was surrounded by various items Bao knew the Earth Kingdom army would love to get their hands on – various maps and papers, several raw materials that Bao suspected had helped make up Jet’s infamous Blaster Bombs, his hooked swords, even the stalk of wheat that Bao was sure still perched on his lower lip.

Jet didn’t even bother turning around. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

* * *

“Come on!” Mai pulled at Zuko, trying to help him keep his footing on the slippery bank. He staggered and skidded on wet wood, trying desperately to keep his balance and not pull her down with him.

She wasn’t sure why she was doing this. This was the man responsible for her current situation – she’d still be living, bored as hell, in the Earth Kingdom if it hadn’t been for him and his damned revolution. It would be better than living on the run, fearing for hers and her friend’s lives.

And yet here she was helping him. Azula would kill her if she ever found out. But he looked so pathetic, dazed and injured; she just couldn’t bring herself to _abandon_ him. Yet.

Mai found that it was much easier to deal with everything that was going on if she didn’t question her own motives in the situation and turned her attention back to Zuko.

She wasn’t sure what to do with him other than keep him awake and keep him moving – she had only basic medical training, which her teachers at the academy had insisted she and Ty Lee learn once Azula had pulled rank and gotten them lessons in their selected areas of combat – “If you want to fight as warriors then you must learn how to _act_ as warriors.” – but it had been many years and she, quite frankly, had dozed through class, learning just enough to pass satisfactorily.

Flighty Ty Lee had more medical knowledge than she did, and Ty Lee had daydreamed through the whole semester.

All she could do was listen to her instincts – Zuko wanted to sleep, and she was pretty sure that meant he shouldn’t be allowed to sleep. Of course, he was also talking like he was drunk, and she usually encouraged drunks to sleep it off…

He grumbled next to her – something about “dragons” and “crowns” – then looked up and said, clear and sober: “Do you hear that?”

“No,” she replied flatly.

He pushed away from her and fell into a loose fighting stance. She just watched him, eyebrow raised, as he said gallantly, “I’ll protect you!”

“Zuko?” There was a flash of blue, and then there she was: the water tribe peasant was running towards them. Mai recoiled, stepping back in shadow, but Katara didn’t even notice her. She barreled into Zuko, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. “Are you okay?”

Zuko pushed her away and looked at her, blinking in confusion and leaning dangerously to his left. “You- You’re not-“

“Have you seen Aang?” she pressed him. Mai’s jaw dropped. The Avatar was also in the swamp?

For the first time Mai grasped the enormity of the situation. Both the Fire Lord and the Avatar, lost in this never-ending maze, with Azula running around? She wondered where exactly Azula was and if she knew about the Avatar – Azula wanted nothing more than to destroy her brother, but she would certainly settle for the Avatar – and having both here was probably her wildest dream come true.

“Aang – Where is – My head hurts.” He started to sit down, and Katara flipped opened her water skin and reached to see what was wrong with his head.

“You must have gotten hit hard,” she murmured, her hands glowing blue.

Mai shifted uncomfortably, and Katara’s head snapped up. The water fell from her hands as her blue eyes made contact with Mai’s grey ones and distracted her from her healing. Zuko growled as the water ran down from his hair and into his face.

“What did you do to him?” Katara asked accusingly.

Mai remained still but unconsciously prepared one of her knives, allowed it to slip to the tip of the holster. “I didn’t do anything. He got hit in the head with a branch.”

Katara’s hands automatically pulled water up in a defensive position. “Why are you here? Did you kill the water benders?”

“You’re the first waterbender I’ve seen here.” She hadn’t seen anyone but Zuko and now Katara since they’d entered the swamp, and she considered for the first time that there might be others here – or _had_ been, from the way Katara spoke. Was it possible that they were in even greater danger than she had thought?

Zuko shook his head and rose, putting himself between the two women. “What’s going on?” He looked to his left, and saw Katara, water whip ready, then to his right and saw Mai, fists clenched. Mai did not miss the look on his face – Zuko was always terrible at masking his emotions when he was surprised, and the look on his face right then was somewhere between panic and calm acceptance of certain death.

“What are you doing with her?” Katara asked angrily.

“I wasn’t – What do you care anyway? You’re the ones who left me behind,” Zuko spluttered at her, clearly furious.

“What are you talking about? We’ve been searching for you _all night_!” Katara yelled right back at him, dropping the water momentarily as her hands involuntarily flew to her hips. “Why would you trust her? Don’t you remember how she hunted us? Remember how she poisoned Sokka?”

Zuko stepped away, and looked at both of them, considering her words. Then he turned back to Katara. “Why was I _left behind_?”

“Zuko you _weren’t_-“ She stopped talking suddenly, looking up to the trees above them. A breeze picked up, and Katara smiled in relief and staggered several steps with the wind, as if to follow.

“Aang!” she called. “Zuko,” she said, beckoning him west. “We have to get Aang!” Katara took off, following something that Mai couldn’t see – and neither could Zuko, judging by the fact that he was looking after Katara like she was out of her mind.

He hesitated, took a step, and then abandoned Katara and turned back to Mai. The look on his face had morphed into one of doubt.

He was mentally debating what her motives were. Rocking slightly on his heels, he asked uncertainly, “…Can I… trust you?”

Hot fury shot through her – she had just dragged an injured Zuko through the swamp in an attempt to help him and he was asking whether or not he could trust her?

There was sudden movement behind him, and Mai reacted instinctively. He didn’t even have time to yell as he jumped away from her flying stilettos, hopping up on one leg and throwing his arms over his face.

“_What did you do that_ \- Oh.” His rage was cut off by the sight of her knives sticking out of the eye of the catfish gator that had been sneaking up behind him.

He turned back to her, his face rapidly turning red, and she just crossed her arms, looking at him mutely. After a moment of silent satisfaction on her part, she deigned to speak.

“I _could_ have let that thing eat you.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natura Nihil Fit in Frustra – Nature Does Nothing in Vain


	8. Fama Crescit Eundo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cai inadvertently sets off a panic, Toph is forced to confront a great fear and we get to the root of Azula's problem

There was only so much one could take before finally losing his mind and beginning the descent into madness.

Aang had long ago decided that he was already mad and that one day, when it became too much, he would descend instead into sanity.

The swamp was certainly arguing with that theory.

His frustration with the helplessness of the situation was growing and he was quickly approaching the level of despair – how could he and Katara have gotten separated? What was happening to him? Where had Sokka and Toph been taken? Was Zuko here?

Were any of them even still alive?

It was this thought that gnawed at him, raw pain welling up in his chest and driving him towards a place that he knew was dangerous, that edge that teetered between here and the spirit world…

With a sharp cry he dropped to the ground and brought his fists together, forcing himself to meditate and calm himself. Getting worked up and destroying the swamp would not help the situation.

Even if the swamp deserved it.

Exhaling sharply he forced his eyes closed – his instincts were screaming at him not to, but Aang didn’t know any other way to meditate and he convinced himself that just a moment would be okay – and forced his mind to focus.

Mediating was something he had been taught to do when he was just a small boy, something that had been drilled into him and was a natural part of him.

He’d never felt like this before while meditating. It was uneasy, nervous, almost nauseating.

He felt like he was being _watched_.

Groaning, he opened his eyes and yelped in surprise when the first thing he saw was a pair of solemn grey eyes.

Aang reeled back, flailing out to keep his balance.

The kid – it _was_ a child, a small boy, younger than ten, dressed in the yellow and red clothing he used to be so familiar with – just laughed and formed an air scooter, flying around him with ease.

“Hey!” Aang called, surprised at the sudden appearance of a child – especially one that didn’t seem concerned about being lost in a place like this. The kid ignored him, circling him and laughing.

“Hey!” he tried again, and realized with absurd, sickening clarity, that this was the frustration that others felt when he ran circles around them. “Who _are_ you?”

The kid responded by running into a tree, flopping back, and disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Aang blinked and rubbed his eyes. The swamp was playing its tricks again. The first time he was here he had seen a vision of Toph, when he was still searching for an earthbending teacher and had yet to meet her. This time he had seen… himself? When he was younger? What was the point of _that_?

He didn’t care – he would figure it out sooner or later, but until then he was most worried about Katara and the others. Aang wasn’t even sure what direction he was heading in, let alone if he was heading towards his friends or away from them, or if he was any closer to getting out of the swamp or was just getting more mixed up in his desperation.

The whispers in the wind were getting louder too. Aang was used to hearing and seeing things that others couldn’t – he _was_ the bridge between the physical world and the spirit world, and sometimes the border between those two worlds blurred – but they were just serving to make him more apprehensive, more nervous when he _needed_ to stay calm and focus on protecting his loved ones.

Especially when the wind talked about things like traps and blood.

Shuddering, he spun around at the sounds of loud splashing.

There was _another_ kid in the swamp with him, but this one didn’t look like an airbender. She looked just like-

“Katara?”

The waterbender jumped guiltily, like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar. She turned and looked at him, smiling a wide, mirthful grin that made her wide grey eyes crinkle.

_Grey eyes_… Confusion filled Aang. “Who _are_ you?” he asked, shaking his head and shifting his weight uneasily. She laughed.

From the corner of his eye he saw movement, and snapping his head up he saw a long, dark shadow weaving through the tree branches – heading right towards the girl.

His instincts screamed – _protect, always protect others first, especially her_ – and he took off, determined to intercept whatever was coming.

She saw him running towards her but not the threat in the trees, and turning on heel she took off through the trees, navigating the thick forest as deftly as the beast above her.

Aang ran after her, though he honestly didn’t know at this point if he was still trying to protect her or just wanted to catch her himself. She stayed ahead of him easily; Aang was able to follow only by a glimpse of blue as she twisted through the trees. He would have preferred following her from above, finding the ground burdensome as usual, but the shadow above him moved as fast as they did, keeping up with them and wrapping the trees above Aang in a dark canopy.

Finally he burst through several thick bushes to find that she appeared to have paused, as if waiting for him. The eerie light cast an unholy glow on her, and he put on a burst of speed before she could run again.

He wasn’t missing her this time.

* * *

“The crowd out there is getting larger,” Taro said, dimly outlined in the window. He chuckled to himself.

Cai lifted his heavy head from the table. “Taro, I fail to find anything in this situation funny.”

Taro turned from the window and faced him, a thinly veiled smile on his face. “My apologies, Master Cai. But they’re so afraid of us they’re using jarred _lightning_ _bugs_ instead of torches.” Cai just groaned and dropped his head back onto the table.

The day had started off with such hope.

They had pulled into port early in the morning, and Cai had ordered the small group of men traveling with him to be fully dressed and prepared to travel west towards Omashu. Iroh had given him orders to find whoever was in charge in King Bumi’s absence and warn of Azula’s movements and her probable responsibility of Lord Zuko’s disappearance.

He had a second task as well. Iroh had warned him that it could possibly take a while to find her: “She usually sticks to the coast. You’ll find her in the typical seedy bars sailors favor. Once you do find her though, you’ll track down Lord Zuko and Azula in no time.”

Cai had asked how – what made this woman so powerful that only she could do this job, but Iroh had gone off about her incomparable beauty instead, leaving Cai’s questions unanswered.

He’d never been to the Earth Kingdom before. Before they’d left in the morning, he’d dressed in full Fire Nation regalia, determined to impress not only his stature at the Fire Nation court but also the import of his mission.

He had stridden off the boat into the docking yards, which were completely empty save an old couple arguing.

“There is no reason you can’t go out today!” she was yelling at her husband, who had waved a hand at the sky behind him.

“Look at those storm clouds! I’m not endangering my life for some fish!”

“There is one cloud, and it’s only slightly grey. If it’s going to rain at all, it’ll be a light drizzle. You’ve faced worse!”

“And barely lived to tell about it!” He had pressed his hands to his chest dramatically. “This old heart can’t take another one!”

Their argument had been interrupted by Cai’s approach. He hadn’t had to say a word. As soon as they had both noticed him, they’d turned and started, slack jawed. Cai had given them his most charming smile and started to say “Hello, we’re looking to make travel arrangements.”

These words had never been heard, because as soon as Cai had opened his mouth the old couple in front of him had raised a terrible racket.

“Fire Nation! In the town! We’re being invaded!” They’d taken off, screeching their call to all who would listen.

Cai had just looked at where the old couple had just been standing in shock. Taro had then approached him, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and said “Well, that could have gone better.”

“They don’t really think we’re invading.” Cai had said, trying to assure himself more than Taro. “They’re an old superstitious couple. Of course they don’t trust Fire Nation. Come on, let’s head into town and find some supplies.”

“There are a lot of old people in this town,” Taro had remarked later, as they’d run back to the ship.

They had found total chaos in town. The old couple had set off all the alarms, and men were being gathered. Cai had actually heard locks turning in doors as they’d walked past. Still, he had pressed on, hopeful to find a mayor and prove that this pandemonium was merely a misunderstanding.

Then Delun, one of his lieutenants, had been struck in the head with a cabbage. The guards, instantly on alert, had retaliated and set fire to the stall before Cai could stop them.

Mass panic. The crowd had quickly found the small entourage from the Fire Nation, and Cai had decided that perhaps diplomacy wasn’t the ideal route to follow this time. They’d fled for the relative safety of the ship.

And now there was a mob, near riot, gathered outside the ship that was anchored a little ways off port.

“I think they’re chanting!” Taro delightedly informed Cai from his post at the window. “I can’t make out the words though. “Avalanche” and “Fire Nation dogs,” I believe.”

Cai lifted his head from the table once again, mumbling a prayer to Agni. “Is Delun okay?”

Taro turned to Cai and wrinkled his nose. “In need of a bath maybe.” He shuddered. “I always hated cabbages.”

Cai buried his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do now.”

“Ah, cheer up Master Cai. This isn’t the first time that the Fire Nation has been heckled by Earth Kingdom peasants and it won’t be the last.”

Cai ignored him. “We still have to get to Omashu somehow.” He sighed. “Pull up anchor. We’ll dock north of here and attempt to travel south from there.”

Taro bowed and left to carry out Cai’s order. Cai slumped in his chair and vowed that next time he would go out in his underclothes before leaving the ship in full armor again.

* * *

Toph crossed her arms and tapped her feet in irritation, trying to quell her anxiety and rationally figure out how she had gotten there.

She’d been stumbling through the forests, trying to ignore the noise (the _whispers_) around her while looking for anyone she knew when the ground beneath her had turned slick and started to incline. Toph could see the water at the edge of the bank, and had followed it, looking for the little bridge of land she had crossed over the water on.

She had walked a wide circle, but there was no little bridge. Toph was stuck on what appeared to be a separate little island of land, surrounded by water – _except she hadn’t gone into the water to get there_.

“What is going on here?” She stomped her foot in frustration, and behind her a tree rocked dangerously as the ground beneath it was disturbed.

The water was chilly as she dipped one foot into it, trying to sense how deep it was. She could barely see in water – though it did carry vibrations better than sand – but it appeared that it was just a shallow pool, maybe knee deep. It would be possible for her to wade across to the other side.

Coming to terms with the fact that she was destined to get soaking wet again, she dropped her other foot in the water and stepped out. The water was getting colder – one of her feet was already numb, and she was glad she wouldn’t have far to go to get across.

She was about halfway across when the bottom suddenly dropped out from under her, pulling her under the water.

Toph instinctively opened her mouth to cry out and gagged as water filled it, going up into her nose.

Her hatred of water was common knowledge. Yearly, when the ice was beginning to thaw and spring warmed up the land, Sokka offered her swimming lessons, insisting that it was a basic skill she needed to learn. She rudely refused every year, to the point that the proposal, though always sincere and in earnest, was a running joke between them.

For the first time in her life, she found herself wishing she had taken Sokka up on his offer and learned a thing or two about how not to drown.

She kicked out, trying to reach the surface again, but she couldn’t feel the bottom – and was therefore totally blind – and felt herself being dragged down more. Her limbs grew heavy and a grey haze took over her mind.

“_I could help_.” A voice broke through the fog – Toph’s lungs were burning, but she couldn’t even tell which way was up anymore. The icy voice failed to register with her.

“_I could help you_.” It came again, and this time Toph paid attention.

“_If you wanted to get out of here. I could help you. But you would have to help me too. A life for a life._”

The words meant little to Toph outside of relief from this airless prison. She kicked again, trying to propel herself upwards, but before anything else could happen a firm hand broke through the water and grabbed her by the scruff of her collar, hauling her up until she broke the surface.

She felt the air again, but when she opened her mouth to take a breath nothing happened. Another hand came in and clapped her hard on the back and Toph gagged, spitting water back up and finally getting in a deep gasp of sweet, cold air.

“I didn’t – I didn’t say-“ she tried to stumble through the words, but she coughed and retched again before anything came out. She was terrified, both shaken up from nearly drowning and scared of whoever had saved her – what had they meant by a life for a life?

“Calm down...” Their voice was deep and soothing. “You’re okay now. I’ve got you.” Another voice, this one high pitched and musical, floated down from the bank, and the first voice responded. “She’ll be okay.”

The voice, along with the shape of the arms and his scent suddenly registered with Toph. “Sokka?” she choked out.

“It’s me, Toph. I’ve got you.” His hold on her tightened for a moment, as if to prove it. She twisted in his arms and threw her arms around his neck, nearly choking him.

“I thought you were dead!” Her voice cracked and she burst into sobs of intense fear and relief. “I thought you were all dead and I was going to die too and I didn’t know who was helping me or what they wanted and-“

“It’s okay now. Calm down.” He was moving, taking her back to land and dropping her softly on the bank. Checking her over for other injuries, he asked softly, “Why were you under the water anyway?”

“It was deep! I went over my head!” she said defensively, yanking her arm from his probing hold. Already her mind was racing to reassure her that the voice she’d heard was merely in her head and nothing to worry about – at least, certainly not the part about a life for a life. Her toes dug into the ground – she hated when she couldn’t see.

“Toph, that water wasn’t that deep. It would have been chest deep on you at most.”

She wasn’t listening to his words. In her hysteria, she had assumed that the high-pitched voice she had heard on the bank was Katara, but now that she could see again, she could tell it was another woman. She was taller and skinnier, and held herself in a different way, as if there were an excess energy just waiting to get out and be used.

“Who is that?” Toph asked sharply, turning her head in the direction of the stranger; she was both curious as to who else was in the swamp with them and vaguely embarrassed at making such an emotional scene in front of them.

“Uh…” Sokka’s voice was nervous. “Toph, I think you remember Ty Lee?”

* * *

She had turned her back on him.

It was ironic, considering the dreams that Azula’d had over the years, the visions of him coming to her and the deep seated desire that Azula carried to see him, _just one more time_, to see if he was still as magnetic as before or if she would be able to resist him this time, that when she finally did get to see him again, she turned away from him, unable to look at him.

Azula should have known that it wouldn’t be the last she saw of him; Zhao was as determined in death as he was in life. As she mindlessly stumbled through the swamp, not sure if she was looking for Mai and Ty Lee or simply a way out of there, he appeared at every twist and turn.

Finally, when she tripped and fell on all fours only to meet a pair of dark red boots, Azula looked up at him, her eyes meeting his penetrating gaze. Absurdly, her first thought was that _he_ had always bowed to _her_, and that this view of him was strange and discomforting.

“What do you want with me?” she asked, surprised at the shakiness of her own voice.

He fixed his glare on her, solemn amber eyes meeting hers. “Everything I did,” he said thoughtfully, “I did for you.”

Slowly, she raised herself up, wondering what he meant by those strange words. The corners of his mouth twitched, and there was a smile that Azula hadn’t seen since she was twelve.

The first time Zhao had smile at her like that, she had been eight, and it had been her first lesson with him. He had started her training slowly, but after an hour of breathing exercises Azula had lost her temper and demanded that he teach her something _useful_.

He had blinked at her calmly. “It will be hard work. I was under the impression that princesses didn’t like to get their hands dirty.”

She had crossed her arms. “Princesses mostly hate when teachers don’t do their _jobs_.”

The same mellow grin had crossed his face at that point. “Princess Azula, I believe this is a start to a very beneficial relationship.”

The second time she had seen Zhao smile like that, she had been ten and had just wiped the floor with Zhao’s second best student – a noble boy, three years older than her who was also considered a firebending prodigy – in her first Agni Kai. Whispers had been flying around court about an imminent betrothal promise between families – think of how powerful their children could be! – and when Azula had complained of this to Zhao, he had arranged the Agni Kai.

“If you wish to avoid a betrothal,” he had explained, “then you need to beat him. A noble man would never marry a woman who would disrespect him in that way.”

“And what about you?” she had asked, her eyes closed as she’d meditated. “Do your women respect you?”

“There is no woman officially yet, Princess. I am in no hurry to settle down.”

She’d cracked an eye open. He’d been holding a cup of tea, studying her intently.

“Could you marry a woman you knew could beat you up?”

Zhao had shrugged: an improper, but comfortable response. He was no longer speaking to her as teacher to student. “Sometimes you have to demand respect, but sometimes you have to give it too.”

After the fight she had curled up in the corner of the windowsill in her father’s office – one of her favorite hiding places. Zuko got in trouble when he went into their father’s office, but Azula could sit on the windowsill and look outside, drawing strength from the sun and keeping a half ear in on her father’s proceedings. The billowing curtains that surrounded the window kept her hidden. She’d heard many delicate conversations that she knew many would do desperate things to know about.

She’d taken malicious joy in knowing that Zuko would have been whipped if he had ever tried the same thing. Her father, Azula’d been sure even at the tender age of ten, had been grooming her to eventually take control the Fire Nation in his stead.

Adrenaline had still been pounding through her as she had relaxed in the steady breeze and the warm sun. Fighting in the Agni Kai had been simply exhilarating. The sight of the boy’s terrified face at the end, when she had stood over him triumphantly, was burned into her memory.

Her pleasant thoughts had been interrupted by a loud banging on the door and a sharp call. “Lord Ozai!”

Only one person would dare acknowledge her father so nonchalantly. Her eyes had narrowed and her lip curled as she’d peeked through the red curtains, getting a glance at their useless Uncle Iroh.

“Is there a problem, Iroh?” Ozai had asked gruffly.

“Yes, Lord Ozai,” Iroh had responded shortly. “There is. Have you heard what that maniac teacher of your daughter has done now? An _Agni Kai_! At _ten_!” His voice had lowered a bit, and Azula had strained to hear his words. “That man is inappropriately training your daughter, Lord Ozai! And I am not sure that his interest in her lies in simply teaching her.”

There was a long silence as Ozai had finished up whatever document he had been working on before looking back up at Iroh.

“Did she win?” he had finally asked.

A victorious grin had exploded on her face. She had won, and she would win again.

The final time she had seen that grin, it was the night before her twelfth birthday, and he had just presented her with a birthday gift of a broadsword with Fire Opals inlaid in the handle. It was the only one of her presents that she had actually considered useful. Even at the age of twelve, people had still seemed convinced that she, of all people, would find dolls and frilly skirts and combs practical and attractive.

The next day he had been sent away, and Azula hadn’t seen him alive again. Just once, about a week after her birthday, she had tried to use the broadsword during training exercises, but lost control of her bending and melted the precious gems in the handle, ruining it.

It was the last time she had cried.

The next week her training had been handed over to Li and Lo. The first three months of her training had been nothing but breathing exercises as her new teachers started her training over for the beginning – Li and Lo were scandalized at the lack of discipline in their talented pupil.

* * *

Katara gasped for breath as she attempted to keep up with the airbender who was running gracefully ahead of her, feet hardly seeming to touch the ground.

“Aang!” She had tried to get his attention with no success, and she knew that she had no hope of keeping up with him. Aang could run faster than any person in the world – who was she to think she could catch him? She would only if he _wanted_ to get caught.

Then he turned back to look at her, and though the flighty grin and the grey eyes were the same, the rest of his face was different and Katara suddenly realized that she wasn’t chasing Aang after all.

She skidded to a stop, but he merely let out laugh, and with a whoosh pushed off the ground and moved into the trees. Gazing into the now empty branches where he had just been, Katara felt hot relief rush through her as she realized that the man in front of her had been the next airbending Avatar.

Hope was carried on after all.

Katara was bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath when she realized that Zuko wasn’t with her and knew, instantly, that in his outrage the stubborn firebender hadn’t even bothered to follow in the first place. Letting out an oath that would make Aang blush -and that Sokka didn’t even know she was aware of - she straightened up and started to turn around to catch up with the Fire Lord again.

And this time, she vowed to herself, he would not only _stay with her_, she would make it _very clear_ what they as a group had endured to find him and make him forget all this nonsense about being left behind.

Before she could take a step, long black shadows passed on either side of her, engulfing her and swishing by so fast Katara wasn’t sure what had just hit her even though it left her shuddering. She had barely began to recover her breath when suddenly something slammed into her so hard she hit the ground and rolled, tangled up in limbs and clothes and shrieks.

“Get off me!”

“Katara?”

They both froze as they realized they recognized the other’s voice.

_These_ grey eyes – currently shining with relief – were the ones that belonged to her.

“Aang!” The gratitude – _the relief_ – she felt at seeing him again, alive and in her arms overwhelmed her. Tears sprang in her eyes and she threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. “Thank the spirits you’re okay!”

“Hey, I’m here now.” His voice was low and soothing as he allowed her to hold on to him, the two of them still tangled up on the ground. “I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry about everything!” she wept, trying hard to stop the tears that were wetting his shoulder and failing miserably.

He murmured to her in quiet tones for a couple moments before pulling away slightly. “Um…”

“What?” she asked in a panicky voice. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s just... uh… you’re kinda holding my face in the dirt.”

Katara instantly released him and sat up, wiping her nose. He rocked back, sitting up on his knees and turning his head to spit out a pebble. They made eye contact for a moment before Katara threw herself back into her arms.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, smoothing her hair from her face. “You’re not hurt are you?” Katara just shook her head, still buried in his chest.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again,” she whimpered, holding on to him as tightly as she could.

“I’m right here,” he reassured her. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to be okay.”

Katara pulled back and wiped her eyes. “I found Zuko. He was with me, but when I saw you he wouldn’t follow.”

Aang’s eyebrows furrowed as he frowned at her. “You really saw Zuko or you hallucinated seeing Zuko?”

“No!” she insisted. “I really saw him! He had a head injury and I healed him… he was with Mai.”

He blinked at her. “Mai. Mai with the knives, Mai?” She nodded miserably, aware of how ludicrous her claim was, and he rubbed the back of his head before reaching out for her again.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t get hit in the head or something, right?”

Katara shoved him away. “I _saw_ them!”

“Why would Mai be here in the swamp? And why would Zuko be with her?”

She looked down at her hands, remembering Zuko’s confused outrage and Mai’s cool defense. “They were alone. I didn’t see Azula or Ty Lee with them. I know it sounds ridiculous… but he wasn’t afraid with her.”

For a moment she felt lost and confused, overwhelmed with their situation and the hopelessness of it, and then his hands moved from her shoulders and intertwined with her hands, squeezing them and pulling her up.

“If you just saw Zuko, that means he can’t have gotten too far away from you.” He gave her a small, reassuring smile, and she felt her spirits lift. “Let’s find him, let’s find Sokka and Toph, and let’s get out of here.”

“Okay,” she said softly, but his attention was no longer on her. “…What?”

Aang shushed her impatiently, clearly listening to something else. He pointed to her left, and she shifted her focus, straining her ears.

There was a soft groan that grew louder, then the creaking and snaps of someone crashing through the branches without direction.

Aang moved protectively in front of her. “Don’t move.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fama Crescit Eundo - Rumor Grows as it Goes


	9. Unitas Mirabile Vinculum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka, Ty Lee, and Toph attempt to make camp, Iroh holds down the fort in the Fire Nation, and Aang and Katara face the unthinkable

“The fact is,” Jet said with certainty, “simply writing editorials and talking about how evil the Fire Nation is isn’t going to get them out of our hair.”

Bao and Jet sat, cross-legged and facing each other across the spread-out documents they were currently studying. Outside the small tree house he could hear the other Freedom Fighters flitting through the trees, keeping a silent watch in case of intruders.

“If we’re going to get rid of Fire Nation influence forever, we have to _show_ the citizens why the Fire Nation is evil.”

“Though your editorials aren’t doing too badly,” Bao pointed out, thinking of the protests and angry words he had heard from the irate people back in Ba Sing Se.

“Yeah, but they won’t get the job done.” Jet picked through a couple pieces of parchment before selecting one and holding it out for Bao, who leaned in to get a better look at it.

“Yes, it’s one of the maps I stole. The southern half of the Earth Kingdom.” Bao peered closely at the map, looking where Jet’s thumb rested.

“Do you see it?”

Bao squinted. “It’s an army storehouse.”

“On _your_ maps it is.” Jet put the paper down and picked up another map. “Here’s my map – one that can be found anywhere in the Earth Kingdom.”

Bao looked at Jet’s map. “It’s not marked.”

Jet smiled, nodded, and rolled the map back up. “Confidential information. Not even the people who live in the town know what it’s used for. They think it’s an abandoned building,” he said, tapping the side of his head with the parchment.

Bao picked up the first map. “An army storehouse. For weapons?”

Jet shrugged. “Non-benders have to fight too.”

“What do you need weapons for?” Bao frowned.

“_I_ don’t need weapons.” Jet leaned in close. “Fact is, if someone were to break into the weapons storehouse and take the weapons before setting it on fire, a lot of people in our army would feel… threatened.”

Bao raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to frame the Fire Nation for it?”

“I won’t need to.” Jet shook his head at him. “They’re going to come to the conclusion all by themselves.”

“But the people won’t-“

“If the army moves, the citizens move with it,” Jet said flatly.

Bao shrugged and contemplated the documents. “This is a pretty big deal, Jet,” he said, half warningly. “There’ll be consequences if you do this.”

“I’ve done worse.” Jet dismissed Bao’s words with the wave of a hand. “And it’ll be worth if it this land is free from the Fire Nation once and for all.” He gritted his teeth before adding, “I thought it was bad during the war, but now the Fire Nation has the ears of our leaders and just controls us through them.”

“They don’t have my ear,” Bao said, crossing his arms and glowering at the perceived insult.

Jet smiled faintly. “I know. I thought, at one point, that I had lost you to them, but then no one ever came to arrest me and I knew you’d come back.” He stood up, brushing his hands off and reaching for a pot of cold tea in the corner of the room. “What’s Mad Old Bumi think?”

“There’s been sightings of you up in the north west, almost near the northern air temple. Since the area is so sparsely populated to begin with the search for you has cooled considerably.” Bao pulled out blank parchment and snagged a quill from Jet. “I’ll send him a report now saying that there have been rumors of disgruntled Fire Nation merchants and firebenders causing trouble in the south, near the storehouse. It should reach him right as we reach the storehouse.” Bao started writing furiously, but paused when he felt Jet’s eyes on him. “What?” he demanded, feeling uncomfortable.

Jet shook his head. “I never should have doubted your loyalty.”

* * *

There was a loud knocking on the door, and for the first time all day Meng allowed herself to lose her temper.

“Go _away_! Aunt Wu is not seeing anyone tonight!”

The door cracked open, and Meng sat up, ready to keep scolding, but then she saw it was merely her best friend’s face peering through the door at her.

“Oh,” she sighed, relieved. “Hui, it’s just you. Come in and lock the door behind you.”

The door locked with a click behind him and he settled down across from her, accepting the tea she poured for him. “How bad was it today?” he asked gently.

“It was awful!” Meng reached for a lemon slice. “People just kept lining up, demanding to know if there’s another war coming, wanting to know what’s going to happen to them or their families. She hasn’t had a moment’s rest all day.”

“Well at least now everyone is gone and she can relax,” Hui said, sipping slowly at the tea.

“I don’t think you understand.” Meng pulled nervously at a braid. “She hasn’t seen a single person all day. She’s been holed up in that room, trying to predict what’s happened to the Avatar and his Companions. Aunt Wu doesn’t have time for anyone else.”

“Can she do that? Predict the fortune of someone that isn’t even here?”

Meng smiled and pulled herself up, reaching out and affectionately flicking his earlobe. “There are ways. I haven’t learned them yet, but she is considering teaching me before the year is out. Come on.”

The two of them crept to the paper-thin door and Meng slipped it open a little, giving them a limited view of the old woman kneeling in the middle of the room in front of the dancing blue flames. Candles flickered through the room, and Meng heard Hui above her take a breath and hold it, trying not to choke on the heavy musky fumes of Aunt Wu’s incense that floated out of the room.

Meng couldn’t hear the old woman’s words, but knew what she was doing: Wu was trying to invoke the spirits, asking for knowledge and guidance. She was trying to draw a vision of the Avatar or the Companions, seeking to bring either hope or warnings to those of the village. Whatever she saw caused her great distress; the fortuneteller stiffened and then slumped, as if suddenly burdened with a great weight.

Hot panic rose in Meng. “Aunt Wu!” she cried, not caring that she was exposing herself as an eavesdropper. Hui froze at the door, but Meng ran to Aunt Wu, grasping her by the shoulders and helping her sit up. “Are you okay?”

Aunt Wu shook her head as if to clear it, then looked back into the now rapidly dying flames.

“Aunt Wu?” Meng’s grip on the old woman tightened as she resisted the urge to shake her.

Her eye’s stayed trained on the fire, as if in a trance. “There will be a great war,” she said softly, though she seemed unaware of Meng’s presence. “And the victor of this war will control the fate of the world.”

All the breath left Meng, and for a moment she was frozen as Aunt Wu’s grave words hung heavily in the thick air. She glanced up and met Hui’s wide, shocked eyes.

Then abruptly the flames died totally, becoming nothing more than a few glowing embers, and Aunt Wu blinked for a couple moments before looking up at her young assistant. “…Meng?” she asked blearily, as if she had just woken up. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you okay?” Meng’s voice was unnaturally high, and Wu frowned in confusion as she noticed.

“I’m fine,” she said, standing up and stretching, joints popping. “I’ve been working all day but I can’t seem to make anything come to me.” Aunt Wu rubbed her forehead and eyes, slightly smearing her carefully applied makeup – a true sign of exhaustion.

“Come on,” Meng said, taking her hand. “I’ll make you some tea, and then you can get some rest for tonight.”

When Meng had gotten Aunt Wu settled she returned to the front parlor to say goodnight to Hui, who was standing in the doorway, stargazing.

She joined him, standing close to him to block out the cool summer breezes that would soon turn into blustering fall winds.

“Another war…” Hui breathed, eyes still on the sky. “What are we going to do?”

“Hope,” Meng said softly, “that the Avatar is found. I met him, once, and the only thing he would fight for is his loved ones. He could stop this.”

“I’ve never heard Aunt Wu make a prediction like that. She didn’t even know what she said. You don’t think…?” he left the end of his question unfinished.

“It’s a true prediction. How often has Aunt Wu honestly been wrong?”

“She was wrong about the volcano,” Hui shot. “Although,” he amended after a moment’s thought, “she did predict that my brother would return after the war.”

Meng grinned despite herself. “What?” he prompted.

“Nothing,” she shrugged. “She did predict once that I would marry a man with large ears.” The tips of his ears immediately went red, and Meng let out a laugh before flicking him again.

She turned from him to go back into the house, and he caught her arm. “Are we going to tell the village tomorrow?”

Meng bit her lip. “I don’t know.” Looking back up at the sky, she said, “But we don’t have to tell them now.”

“Then stay outside with me for a little longer.” He gestured with his head, eyes never leaving hers.

Meng blushed before stepping out from the doorway, slowly sliding the door shut behind her.

* * *

“Sokka _please_! I told you before, you shouldn’t be cutting up the swamp!” Toph’s voice rose in pitch, and Ty Lee involuntarily flinched at the vulnerable tone.

Sokka, on the other hand, merely dropped his shoulders and shot a look at Toph. “Toph, I don’t hear anything, and I can’t think of a better way to get through all of this without it taking forever.” Toph stood her ground, frowning at him, and he reached out for her, concerned. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I’m _fine_.” Toph insisted stubbornly, crossing her arms. “But I’m telling you, you’re hurting the swamp! I can _hear_ it!”

Sokka sighed heavily, but before he could say anything else, Ty Lee interrupted. “I can hear it too.”

He trained his blue eyes on her, clearly wondering if she was just trying to endear herself to Toph. “Can you really?”

Ty Lee nodded. “It’s like… a whisper in the wind…” Ty Lee didn’t mention how she’d gotten the same ill feeling when Azula was burning her way through the swamp earlier.

A low growling noise came from Toph. “You know what, Sokka? Never mind. You lead however you want. It’s not that big a deal. Let’s just get out of here.”

Sokka gawked at her. “I thought-“

“I changed my mind,” Toph interrupted.

Ty Lee sighed in frustration and blew her bangs from her face. Toph had been openly hostile towards her since Sokka had fished her out of the water and, considering their past, Ty Lee couldn’t blame her, but she found it growing tiresome nonetheless. Sokka, for his part, was either ignoring Toph or was considering it a part of her normal behavior.

After another moment of confused staring, Sokka shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It’s getting late, and we should probably stop for the night anyway.” He looked around, instantly scouting for dry pieces of wood to make a fire. “Ty Lee, can you help me build a fire?”

Embarrassment welled up in Ty Lee and she cleared her throat nervously before mumbling, “Uh, I don’t actually know how to build a fire.”

Sokka just looked at her. “That’s… That’s a basic survival skill. How do you not know-“ He interrupted himself when he remembered who she’d always traveled with, sparing her from having to explain for herself. “Oh. Okay then. Just help me scavenge for dry wood.”

“I don’t suppose there’s anything to eat, is there?” Toph interrupted, and both Ty Lee and Sokka froze.

Sokka looked over at her Ty Lee. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Yesterday morning before we started in here,” Ty Lee replied. She had been too worried about her friends and about staying alive in the swamp to even think about food.

Sokka bit his lip and rubbed the back of his head in thought. “Last time we were in here the waterbenders fed us … I don’t know if you’ll like it though.”

“At this point I’m willing to try anything,” Toph insisted.

“Alright…” Sokka said warningly. He shrugged again, resigned, and continued picking up wood, working his way between the trees, looking for dry pieces that would light easily. Not much later, Ty Lee heard a loud thunk, along with a triumphant yell from Sokka.

“I have it!” he announced, walking out of the woods holding two winged creatures. One he handed to Ty Lee, who made a face and held it by one wing. The other he gave to Toph, who brought it up to her nose.

“What is this?” she asked, confused.

“It’s a bug,” Ty Lee declared, feeling revulsion crawl through her stomach.

“You’re trying to make me eat a bug?” Toph turned to Sokka. “Is this a joke? It smells disgusting.”

“That’s what we ate last time we were here!” Sokka insisted, crossing his arms.

“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t bother to catch one for yourself.” Toph was holding the creature out, away from her body.

“I wanted to make sure you two got something to ear first,” Sokka said in an exasperated tone. There was a very tiny part of Ty Lee that pitied Sokka, though truly most of her was too busy being grossed out by the bug.

“I can’t eat this!” Ty Lee exclaimed, voicing her objections alongside Toph. “It’s…. it’s a _bug_!”

“It’s not that bad! I actually kinda liked it last time.”

“It’s a bug. I can hardly think of something as bad as eating a bug,” Ty Lee persisted.

Toph’s shoulders straightened. “Well… maybe it’s not _that_ bad.”

Ty Lee fought the urge to roll her eyes and glared at Toph, sure she was merely being contrary. Then, to her surprise, Toph lifted the bug to her mouth and took a crunchy bite. After a few moments of chewing, Toph swallowed her bite, then dropped the bug, clapped her hands to her mouth, and announced that she was going to throw up.

Ty Lee’s eyes widened, but Sokka gave a half grin and took a step towards her, putting one hand on her shoulder and using the other to sweep her long bangs from her eyes. “Hilarious. It wasn’t really that awful, right?”

Then Toph bent over and heaved. Sokka yelped and jumped away.

Ty Lee dropped her bug. “I am not eating that.”

Facing an angry, sick earthbender and an irritated, obstinate acrobat, Sokka gulped. “They… taste better when they’re cooked over a fire?”

* * *

Iroh poured himself another cup of tea, silently looking at the Pai Sho board in front of him through the steam that rose from the cup. The message was as confusing as ever; after moving his thoughts away from Lord Zuko towards the Avatar, the tiles had slowly shifted as well, concentrating on the center of the board and thinning out towards the edges.

It was late – the moon was already high overhead – and he was alone in his office, having sent his remaining advisors to bed several hours ago but unable to find any rest himself. The news from the Earth Kingdom was deeply disturbing, and Iroh feared how he had unknowingly made the situation worse by sending Cai into it. Zuko would be furious if anything happened to Cai. Several lanterns burned brightly, filling the office with light as Iroh sat quietly, alternating between sips of tea and leafing through reports from merchants.

As soon as they had sensed the shift in climate, the merchants who owned ships had returned to the Fire Nation, stranding the other poorer, landlocked merchants and causing an uncomfortable swelling in the number of ships currently docked. Iroh had men working to collect as many reports as quietly as possible, but he was fully expecting the Nation to wake up to the news of the Fire Lord missing in the morning.

There came a loud banging from outside his office door and several raised voices. Sighing away the sense of loss that came with the disruption of the peace, Iroh strode to the door and pulled it open to see what the matter was.

In front of him he found one of Zuko’s advisors, down on his knees and leaning forward heavily, being supported only by a guard, who had fallen down to one knee. The other guard moved protectively in front of Iroh.

“You _know_ me!” the advisor was snarling at the guards, who made no motion to let him pass.

“Stop,” Iroh said quietly. The guard in front of him looked back for a moment before moving away, allowing Iroh eye contact with the advisor.

“Admiral Renzu,” Iroh greeted pleasantly. “What brings you to my humble office this time of night?”

The guard hauled the man to his feet, where he swayed momentarily before leaning in again towards Iroh, whose face automatically wrinkled after getting a whiff of the alcohol on his breath. “General shir, I have to talk to you.”

The guards look questioningly at Iroh, who nodded at them, and released Renzu into Iroh’s office. Iroh guided the man into a chair and turned his back, pulling up his chair.

“I’m afraid I have no coffee to offer you, but would you like some tea?” he offered dryly.

Renzu just shook his head. “General Iroh, we’re in sho much trouble,” he slurred, dropping his head against the back of the chair and clapping a hand over his eyes. “There’s gonna be a waaaaar…”

“We’re doing everything we can to _prevent_ war, Admiral Renzu,” Iroh said gently, reaching for his teapot.

Renzu grasped the arms of his chair and jerked forward. “You don’t understand. The merchants are _furious_ – there was almost a riot down at the docks tonight when they were talking about Zuko and the Avatar and how the Earth Kingdom was treating them…” He shook his head again, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s going to explode into a giant war, and there’s nothing we can do about it! I cant… I can’t! I have a family, General Iroh! I have to…” Renzu lurched up. “I have to resign from my position.”

Iroh crossed his arms. “No you don’t.”

“I don’t?”

“No, you don’t.” Standing up, he took Renzu’s arm and started to lead him back to the door. “There will not be a war. I have no interest in fighting, and I’m sure that none of the Earth Kingdom leaders would be happy to go back to war.”

“But- but Lord Zuko!”

“It would not be fair to punish the Earth Kingdom for something that is not their fault, just because it happened on their land,” Iroh said firmly. Opening the door, he motioned for one of the guards to take Renzu. “Please take Admiral Renzu to one of the guest chambers to sleep. I don’t want him to disturb his wife.”

Renzu allowed one of the guards to lead him away before struggling briefly and turning back to Iroh. “Where are they?” he asked. “Where’re Lord Zuko and the Avatar?”

Thinking of the Pai Sho board behind him, Iroh solemnly answered what he knew to be true. “They’re caught up in the middle of something they cannot control.”

* * *

“Aang?” Katara’s voice came out in a choked whisper, and Aang shushed her impatiently before taking several slow steps towards the tall grass from where several loud groans were coming.

A figure suddenly lurched from the brush, and Aang instinctively jumped back, throwing an arm in front of Katara – who had followed, despite his directions - before realizing after a tense moment that it was only Huu, the old man they had met in the center of the swamp the first time they had been there.

He leaned heavily against a tree, not really seeming to notice Aang and Katara. His disheveled appearance took Aang by surprise – he was naked, his hair appeared to have been ripped out in large chunks, and his eyes were wide and wild. Those, however, were just the beginning of his injuries – he had clearly been beaten in a bad way, his skin covered with bruises and dried blood. His left hand in particular was so covered that the red blood was nearly black, and Aang realized suddenly with dawning horror that it was because he was missing all the fingers on that hand.

Behind him, Katara let out a strangled noise and pushed Aang away, rushing to Huu and immediately embracing him with one arm while fumbling with the cork to her water skin with the other.

“What... what happened to him?” Aang stuttered, staring as Katara allowed Huu to sag against her as she lowered him to the ground.

“I don’t know.” Katara, ever the healer, kept her tone low and gentle as her hands began to glow and she moved over the swampbender’s broken body. “His injuries are severe but… it doesn’t look like they’ll be fatal.”

Huu let out another groan, and Katara attempted to comfort and quiet him before he made an effort to choke, “Get out.”

“It’s okay,” Katara soothed. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Get out.” Huu fumbled for one of her hands, and Katara let him, focusing her healing efforts on the hand that was now little more than a useless stump. “Get out before it gets you too. It already got them…”

Aang tensed. “What got them?” he asked sharply, but Katara threw him a dirty look and shook her head, not wanting to agitate her patient further.

“Please…”

“Shh… it’ll be okay.” Aang watched as Katara worked to keep Huu pacified as she mended his injuries, the same strange sense of awe welling up that he always felt when he witnessed her healing abilities. He wondered if she was using her power even further, extending to him and the area beyond, because a peaceful, silent, calm seemed to fall over them as her hands moved gracefully.

Later he would wonder if this tranquil aura had dulled his senses, or if it was the exhaustion that was starting to overtake him, but either way Aang, despite his superior reflexes, never had a chance to prevent what happened next.

There was a whistling noise, then a sharp pain on his right forearm. His eyes snapped down to look at the bright blood blossoming from his torn sleeve, and then he heard a wet gasp and a strange sound of alarm.

The swamp was still silent, as if time had momentarily stopped while Aang took in the scene in front of him. The swampbender’s broken and bruised body, still supported by Katara; Katara, cradling Huu in her arms, staring down in numb horror at the dagger like piece of wood now sticking out of Huu’s chest where it had pierced his heart.

He was frozen, a hollow feeling starting in his chest and engulfing his entire body, and then suddenly time was moving again and Aang snapped into motion. His feet barely seemed to touch the ground as he flew to her, dropping to one knee and pulling Huu from her arms as if he was nothing but a doll, frantically running his hands over her to make sure that none of the blood that was currently soaking into her clothes actually belonged to her.

“Are you okay? Did it hit you?” his questions went unanswered; her eyes stayed on the face of the now lifeless body beside her. “Katara,” he called firmly, trying to get her attention. “_Katara_.”

Her blue eyes finally tore themselves away from the body to look at him blankly. Aang squeezed her shoulders, desperate to coax some sort of reaction from her. “Are you okay?”

Her gaze returned to her side and her mouth opened as if to answer, but when Aang felt her body shudder beneath his hands he tightened his grip on her and pulled her up, placing him between her and the body behind him. “Don’t look,” he ordered, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. “Don’t look. There’s nothing you can do.”

The words echoed a far away, deeply buried memory, of red light and red blood and clanking metal and oppressive heat choking his lungs, and Katara’s arms around him, lifting him, trying to make him walk and the blue glow of her hands and her rough voice begging him to keep walking and not to look, _don’t look, don’t, there’s nothing left to do_, don’t look at the Fire Lord’s body behind him because she didn’t want him to see the what was left behind of the task he had completed.

She had supported him then, and now Aang supported her, keeping his arms tight around her and not caring that he was smearing blood all over himself, pulling her away from Huu’s body and the fear that whatever had just struck out at them would do so again if they didn’t get away.

Katara did not fight him, allowing herself to be dragged away with the same blank look on her face. He did not stop until they reached water, and, settling Katara against some of the dry wood, pulled some water from the swamp and picked up her slack arm from her lap.

There was little he could do about the blood on her clothes, but the blood on her skin, on her hands and arms and – spirits, there were even splatters on her _face_ – he could take care of. Tenderly, he used the water to clean her, focusing entirely on her warm, _alive_ skin and not on the cold, numb feeling in his own body and the deep, dark thought of how close he had come to losing her and what that would mean for him and his life.

Katara forced the issue when she spoke suddenly, the vacant look still occupying her face.

“That could have hit me.”

“Don’t think about that,” Aang murmured quickly, closing his eyes and trying to erase the picture from his mind.

“But it didn’t,” she persisted.

His throat had closed up, so all he could respond with was a nod.

“Like it was showing us that it _could have_,” she continued, voice growing more passionate. “Reminding us… what it could do…”

Katara turned to him, eyes burning, and he swallowed hard, standing up and offering her his hand.

“Let’s get out of here.”

She accepted his hand and stood up, following him. She said something softly in a far away tone, and Aang’s heart gave a painful beat before he fully understood what she’d said:

“I don’t think it’ll let us.”

_   
_

* * *

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unitas Mirabile Vinculum: The Wonderful Bond of Unity


	10. In Puris Naturalibus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko picks a fight, Cai finds what he's looking for, and Mai has a minor nervous breakdown

Zuko was angry.

Five years ago, when he’d made his journey from a determined, angry child to slightly more determined, slightly less angry, adult, an important part of his development had been growing up and being honest with himself about his true feelings and not just acting out in anger – at least, that’s what his uncle had insisted time and time again, and though his uncle was very wise, he also cried when he was particularly overwhelmed by the beauty of the china pattern of his tea set.

Well. If Zuko was to be honest with himself, he was embarrassed because Mai had killed the catfish gator. He might have acted bored during uncle’s lectures, but he strongly suspected that he was supposed to protect her instead of the other way around.

Actually, to be even more honest with himself, underneath the layer of anger, and the layer of embarrassment, was a thick layer of healthy confusion. The first time he had seen the exiled Mai in five years and she was helping him? She wasn’t angry at him for sending her away? He wasn’t angry at her for hunting him like some lousy dog in the first place?

And what really burned him, what really pissed him off, was that he suspected Mai not only _knew_ his feelings but thought he was ridiculous and just didn’t care enough to bother knocking any sense into him. It angered him that she knew these things, it embarrassed him that she could read him that well, and it confused him that he was even giving a second _thought_ to her thoughts, and there was that cycle again, and _damnit_, he was going to break _every single one_ of Uncle’s tea sets if he ever got home.

So perhaps it was inevitable, that, as they worked their way through the swamp, he suddenly turned to her and barked, “So what are you doing here anyway?”

Mai didn’t react in the slightest to his harsh tone. “We were heading north and got lost in here.”

Zuko studied her for a moment, anticipating more information but remaining unsurprised when she volunteered none. “I’m surprised the three of you are still together.”

“Why would you be?” her tone was not defensive, as he had expected; it was almost curious, as if she was slightly bemused that he would think the three of them would go separate ways.

“I figured Azula would have ditched you a long time ago,” Zuko explained.

Her eyebrow twitched up for a moment, as if she wanted to look at him and wait patiently for him to pick up on the obvious thing he’d missed. “Azula needs us more than we need her.”

“Is that why you joined up with her before?” he shot at her.

Her face remained blank.

“Five years ago. During the war,” he prompted.

“Yes, Azula was really desperate for me and Ty Lee, what with the entire Fire Nation army, all their technology, and the Fire Lord’s blessing behind her.” Sarcasm. _Sarcasm_ Zuko could work with; how long had he been acquainted with Sokka and Toph?

“That sure didn’t stop you,” he snapped.

“Look, have you ever _been_ to Omashu? _Of course_ I left when Azula and Ty Lee came for me. You would have too, if you’d been trapped there with your soul being sucked away like mine.”

“I wouldn’t know about that,” Zuko retorted, not noticing the rise in his voice. “I was too busy running away from you.”

Mai blinked for a minute, silent, and Zuko mentally congratulated himself on – well, he hadn’t won, exactly, but for some reason he felt better.

Then Mai said conversationally, “If I recall correctly, we spent more time chasing after the Avatar than you.”

That stopped him dead in his tracks. “You were sent after _me_.”

“At first,” she agreed. “But once Azula got the Avatar’s scent, she really focused on him.”

“But I helped train him in firebending! I was traveling _with_ the Avatar!” If he were home, Iroh would pat him fondly on the shoulder and tell him to let it go. If he were with Toph, she would punch him in the shoulder and tell him to stop whining. But he was with Mai, and her response was to look at him, almost quizzically, and respond, “Yeah, that really helped Azula track you both at the same time. If it had come down to it, though, and Azula had been forced to choose between you and the Avatar, she would have taken the Avatar in a heartbeat.”

This was not what he had been planning on; Zuko admitted he’d been trying to pick a fight, but he hadn’t wanted to be put on the defensive - he’d wanted to break that stone face of hers and instead she had used it to crush him cruelly and efficiently.

The thing was that Mai was right. Azula _would_ have chosen the Avatar over him if forced even though she’d been ordered to find _Zuko_. And now he wasn’t sure how to respond to Mai.

She broke the silence by asking, “So what are _you_ doing in here?”

And then it all came rushing back to him – how could he have forgotten? “My uncle is very sick,” Zuko murmured, closing his eyes for a moment and feeling the guilt crawl through his body. “I was going home to be with him.”

There was a very tense moment, and then he heard Mai clear her throat awkwardly and mutter hesitantly, “I’m, uh, very sorry to hear that.”

Something inside him snapped at these words. Zuko faintly heard rushing in his ears as he rounded on her. “No you aren’t.” The words just spilled out of him, as if he’d been saving them up and he didn’t even know it. “You chased him around the Earth Kingdom and then the Fire Nation for months, taking cheap shots when you could, and then he was part of the group that sent you to live in exile in the first place. Tell me, Mai, what reason you could possibly have to be sorry that he is so gravely ill.”

Mai was quiet through his rant, and even now the only indication that she was surprised was a very slight raise of her eyebrows. She blinked for a moment before responding, “He was always very kind to Ty Lee and me.”

“Then you understand why I have to get home to him?” Zuko asked tightly.

She nodded and looked past him, as if searching for a break in the trees. “We should probably try to work our way west, instead of north, then.”

Zuko stopped. “We _have_ been going west.”

Mai shook her head and pointed out the moss growing on the trees. “We’re going north. See?”

“Then we need to go west.” Zuko abruptly altered his course, and didn’t hesitate though Mai failed to follow.

“I wouldn’t,” she called after him.

“And why not?” Before the whole question could get out of his mouth, the ground underneath him faltered and he fell forward and with a loud squish received a mouthful of green slime.

Mai approached him from behind, up above him, safe on rock. “I was trying to tell you that the ground was unstable over there.”

Zuko let out a growl and pushed himself up, trying to right himself but only sinking knee deep into the muck. Mai looked at him, covered head to toe, and promptly showed the most emotion she’d expressed since she had first run into Zuko: blatant disgust, her eyes narrowed and lip curling.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you don’t have to worry about getting any dirtier.”

* * *

Sokka blinked and rubbed his eyes, trying to make his body wake up as fast as his mind had. He'd been jerked from sleep by the scent of burned flesh on the wind and a sudden, intense feeling of vulnerability; the only thing he could think to compare it to was the time he'd lost a bet to Toph and been forced to streak through the Fire Lord's palace as forfeit.

He'd sat up, calling out and fumbling at his waist for his machete - and had felt surprised when he found it, neatly tucked away. He blinked at it dumbly, remembering that he had given it to Ty Lee when she'd woken up for watch - she was more than capable of protecting herself, but she was so fascinated with it that it didn't hurt to let her play with it while he was trying to sleep.

The earth rumbled beneath him, and as Toph's rock tent collapsed he realized that she and Sokka were the only ones still in camp - Ty Lee was gone, disappeared during the night. The earthbender's eyes were still closed and her hair was spiked out in every possible dimension.

"What's your problem?" she asked blearily. "Your heart is going nuts."

"Ty Lee's gone," he informed her, his ears straining to hear anything out of place and scouring the surrounding area for signs of a struggle - of which there were none.

Toph's feet twitched. "Huh. She _is_ gone," she confirmed, tone completely disinterested. "So what?"

He looked at her and frowned, hands automatically settling at his hips. "You know, you really need to work on your intimacy issues."

Toph shrugged and finished dismantling her tent, letting the remains of the rock fall back into the earth. "By that you mean I should make friends with any former enemy I happen to find wandering around?"

"No!" Sokka protested. "This was... special circumstances." There was absolutely no reason for him to be feeling so defensive, and yet he felt the need to justify acting friendly with Ty Lee to Toph. "I mean... there's safety in numbers. I don't want anyone to get hurt here, whether or not I used to fight them."

Toph sighed in irritation and shifted again, stepping to her right and focusing on something in the distance. "Look," she said patronizingly. "There are two people moving directly north of us. One of them is definitely Ty Lee."

"You're sure?" He wouldn't put it past Toph to make something up just to pacify him.

She was ignoring him, currently concentrating on something else. "I think she's with Azula."

"How do you know?"

He could tell she was really annoyed with his doubt. "Because, the only other person who walks like the earth is barely holding them down is Aang, and Aang has no reason to be walking with a rigid person who walks like a man like Azula does."

Sokka rubbed his neck, feeling rather forlorn. "I can't believe she left us." Then, as often happened with Toph, he actually listened to what she had said, distracting himself from his previous train of thought. "Azula walks like a man? Really?"

"Are you kidding me?" Toph asked incredulously. "She walks like a man, talks like a man, wears men's clothing and a man's topknot. I could recognize her anywhere."

Toph always did this to him. He blinked at her blankly for as moment, contemplating this new information, and then blurted out his next question, "How do _I _walk?"

Toph tilted her head, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "It must be because you grew up in all that snow in the South Pole, but if it weren't for your height I wouldn't be able to immediately tell you and Katara apart." Her piece said, she turned her back on him and reached for her outer tunic, effectively ending the conversation.

Sokka scratched his head, not sure exactly who was being insulted - another common trait of Toph's - then sighed, allowing his shoulders to slump as he shook out his tunic and cleaned his boomerang, preparing for a new day and to continue moving through the swamp.

He was feeling distinctly melancholy; something that could be easily chalked up to the stress or exhaustion of their predicament but should probably be blamed upon the disappearance of Ty Lee. This was not how Sokka intended to start his day – although he wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting, what with Ty Lee and him being former enemies and Toph making her enmity of Ty Lee clear, but the fact was that, after his initial hesitation, Sokka had started to trust Ty Lee and had felt more secure with her in front of him.

“_Maybe we won’t find Azula at all_,” she’d suggested when they had first met, and he, like an idiot, had actually entertained some half-hearted hope that she might actually be _right_. Sokka wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

There was a loud cough from behind him. He jumped, startled, then turned around to glance back at Toph. Her jaw was set, arms crossed, one foot tapping in irritation. He’d spaced off with one arm through his outer tunic, the rest of if bunched up around his neck. He flinched guiltily at the look on her face, remembered she couldn’t see it, and then hurriedly pulled his shirt over his head.

“Well! Are you ready to go?” he asked brightly. It was best not to dwell on the way he had expected things to turn out.

* * *

He put his feet up on his desk, relaxing in the little receiving room he had turned into a makeshift office while staying in Ba Sing Se.

The object of his attention was the small, still sealed piece of parchment that had driven Lord Zuko and the Avatar from the palace in the first place. Bumi still wasn’t sure how it had come into his possession, but the small message fascinated him endlessly – that such a little thing could have such a huge impact on the world, that an ordinary piece of parchment could plunge all the nations back into debilitating war. It was so absurd that it would have delighted Bumi if he weren’t responsible in part for one of the nations involved.

He was currently involved in an intense mental battle over whether or not to crack the seal and find out what made this message so important. On one hand, it was highly against the code of ethics to read a sealed message for someone else – and he was pretty sure, knowing Lord Zuko, that he wouldn’t take kindly to it. On the other hand, he _really_ wanted to know what was written, and if it would help figure this situation out, then who would blame him?

_“You’re being curious again,”_ Bumi could hear Bao’s voice arguing with him in his head. The nice thing about having Bao sent away was that Bumi no longer had to argue with him out loud – not that he did often, but Bao had an annoying habit of simply talking louder and repeating himself when Bumi was trying to ignore him and do what he wanted.

Before he could make up his mind either way, there was a knock on the door. Bumi dropped the message neatly in a drawer and locked it, and then called for the knocker to enter, thinking it was just the servants looking for laundry or something.

He was surprised when, instead of the servants, the master waterbender from the Northern Water Tribe walked through the door.

“Ah, Master Pakku,” Bumi greeted pleasantly. “What brings you to my humble quarters this early in the day?”

The waterbender did not exactly look happy to be there – then again, Bumi wasn’t sure he’d ever been happy to be anywhere, so he mentally shrugged and continued to give Pakku his brightest smile.

“This is some awful business going around, King Bumi,” Master Pakku said stiffly.

“Please, sit,” Bumi said, rising from his desk to take a seat with Pakku on the cushions that formed a little circle in the center of the room. There was a small tray with a cooling breakfast sitting on the table that separated them. With a wicked idea forming suddenly in Bumi’s mind, he gestured at the porcelain jug full of coffee. “Would you like something to drink? You haven’t tried any coffee in the manner that we drink it in Omashu, have you?”

Pakku blanched – he far preferred delicate teas to bitter coffees. “I’m not much of a coffee drinker-“

“Oh you must!” Bumi clapped his hands excitedly before reaching for one of the overturned cups. “It’s a world-renowned delicacy!” Aang would have been snorting openly at Bumi’s tone; Bao would have been frowning. Pakku just blinked in confusion and nodded his head gently. Bumi hurriedly filled his order, mixing up the coffee while murmuring about the “special blend of spices, found nowhere else in the world!” and proudly presented Pakku with a cup. Pakku looked at it warily before hesitantly taking it.

“Now tell me,” Bumi prodded, “what brings you to my quarters?” He sipped his own cup of coffee – black, with nothing added, which was the actual Omashu style.

“I’m concerned about this entire situation, King Bumi,” Master Pakku said stiffly. He brought the cup up to his lips and took a sip, then burst into hacking coughs.

“That’s an understatement, Master Pakku.” He frowned at the gasping waterbender. “Are you okay?”

“Does…” Pakku choked. “Does everyone in Omashu drink their coffee like this?”

“Well…” Bumi looked down at his own cup, almost abashedly. “We prefer it much stronger. I didn’t want to overwhelm you so I gave you a rather weak serving. Please,” he said, nodding. “Continue.”

“It’s just,” Pakku took another sip and couldn’t hide his sour face. If Bumi hadn’t already had years of practice perfecting his straight face, he would have laughed, long and loud, at the waterbender and his machismo, which prevented him from putting the cup down. “I cannot really talk to the king of Ba Sing Se about this. Have you seen him recently?”

Bumi felt the corners of his mouth tug up involuntarily. He had not seen the king of Ba Sing Se since breakfast the day before, though the rumor floating round the palace was that he had locked himself in one of the conference rooms, demanding answers from his pet bear.

“The Northern Water Tribe does not yet know about this situation, and I feel it is important that I return to them so that we can make necessary preparations, if it comes to that.”

“I would be surprised if some word hadn’t reached them, Master Pakku.” It was true; word had spread all through the Earth Kingdom overnight; he personally had already sent word to the Fire Nation regarding the Fire Lord; the fleeing merchants were sure to have carried word of the Avatar and the Companions as well. It was hard to imagine any corner of the globe being so far out of reach that they wouldn’t have heard such world-shattering news.

“We’re rather isolated and private, if you hadn’t noticed,” Pakku said awkwardly, and Bumi could concede the point, remembering Aang’s endless coaxing to pull the Water Tribes into negotiations.

Pakku took another sip of the coffee before shuddering and finally abandoning the cup, standing up and politely thanking Bumi. “Speaking of being private,” he said lightly, “Do not think no one has noticed that your second has disappeared from the palace. Master Bao? I do not know what he is sending you, but I hope you would not keep secrets when any information could be of utmost importance at this time.”

Bumi had nothing to respond, schooling his face into his most innocent look, and Master Pakku took his leave, bowing and leaving Bumi on his cushions to pick at the remains of his cold breakfast and at the three sealed messages that the servant had delivered on the tray with his food. As soon as the door clicked behind Pakku giggles bubbled up through his chest and burst out; he picked up Pakku’s cup and sniffed it, almost gagging. He was afraid that Pakku would consider cloves as a stretch as far as mixing them into one’s coffee, and yet he had drunken well over half the cup.

He was still laughing quietly to himself as he cracked the seals on his scrolls; messages from Bao and two other riders he had sent out. The two riders indicated that most of the trouble was in the north and on the western coasts, in the port towns. They both mentioned that refugees from both the Earth Kingdom and from the Fire Nation were fleeing south, where things were calmer and where there was little threat of any sort of attack, if the Fire Nation would be pressed to invade.

Bao’s message reported of disgruntled Fire Nation merchants in the south growing more violent against the Earth Kingdom and expressed the fear that they would soon resort to making some sort of strike against the Earth Kingdom.

A niggling doubt crept into Bumi’s mind, and unwilling to accept the possibility, Bumi entertained himself with the memory of the face Pakku had made as he choked on his coffee.

* * *

The air in the bar was thick with smoke. The bar he and Delun were currently seated in was crowded, smelly, and loud, and as he shifted in his scratchy woolen Earth Kingdom clothing, Cai reflected that he could not possibly be more uncomfortable.

Only the two of them had taken shore leave, attempting to search inconspicuously for the mysterious bounty hunter that General Iroh had insisted was the only one who could find Azula and Zuko. Cai wasn’t sure what had pushed the lady so far north – she usually stuck to the port towns outside of Omashu, according to the rumors, but he was grateful nonetheless. It was late on a moonless night, and Cai was positive she’d be making an appearance at any moment.

According to General Iroh, she was the type to command all attention in the room; therefore Cai was surprised when instead of making an entrance, she had simply appeared quietly at the bar.

Later he would wonder just how long she had been there, watching him and waiting to make her move. Either way, he did not notice her until she sent drinks over to him and Delun.

Her hair had been chopped short, but there was no denying the tattoos. Delun, already slightly drunk, crowed in delight at the free drink. Cai made eye contact with Jun and tipped his glass in thanks before taking a sip.

The next thing he knew, she was sitting at the table with them, quietly dealing a deck of cards.

“You’re not from around here,” she said conversationally, casually flipping a card between her fingers.

“Is it really that obvious?” Cai asked, tipping his glass and letting his drink slosh around.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else on the planet than in this bar. So,” she learned forward conspiratorially. “What are you looking for?”

“You,” Cai blurted. The part of his brain that was still thinking clearly was appalled at how he had spoken so bluntly.

Jun smiled at him, the edges of her mouth curling though her eyes remained narrowed. “Who are you looking for?”

Cai held up a finger; momentarily, it blurred into two before realigning properly. “First, the repayment of an old debt.” He nudged Delun, who whipped a heavy sack onto the table. Jun tugged open the string, whistling at the sight of the golden pieces inside.

“That’s a lot of gold.”

“The weight of General Iroh, to be precise.”

Jun laughed a low chuckle – Cai had a skittering, unnerving feeling that she knew far more than he did - and tucked the sack away in some hidden pocket. “You have my attention. Tell me, who are you looking for?”

Another nudge to Delun, who was leaning heavily against the table at this point, and a second sack was dropped onto the table. Jun eyed it warily, and Cai waved at her impatiently. “Open it.”

She did so, and found the hair piece and the mask that General Iroh had given to Cai before he had left. “And who do these belong to?”

“Oh you know,” Cai waved his hands at her again, tilting back dangerously in his chair. He was finding it harder and harder to connect words. “The Fire Lord and his… psychotic sister.” The word Cai had actually been looking for was “exiled.” He wasn’t sure where “psychotic” had come from.

Jun considered the two pieces before calmly retying the sack and returning to her deck of cards, placing the deck in the middle of the table.

“Cut the deck,” she instructed. Cai followed her directions. “I’m actually already working on an assignment, but I could be persuaded to abandon that.”

She picked a card and showed it to Cai, who had to squint his eyes to focus on it. The Jester of Fire. Next to him, Delun’s head hit the table with a dull thunk. Cai turned to him, but Jun didn’t spare a second glace, snapping her finger’s impatiently to keep Cai’s attention.

“Pick a card. If it’s higher than mine, I’ll take your bounty.”

Cai blinked at her stupidly. “What are you looking for now?”

Jun gave him a look of pure satisfaction. “You.”

Cai picked up a card, dropped it, and picked it up again. “Wha..?”

“Well,” Jun shrugged. “_Any_ Fire Nation scum, actually. The bounty on you is quite high right now.” She pointed at his hand. “What’s your card?”

Cai looked down at his hand, but everything had gone blurry. There was the sensation of falling, then a crashing noise that sounded from a great distance, and then all he knew was darkness.

* * *

It was a mark of how she had been raised that, despite everything that had happened to her since she’d come into the swamp, being attacked by the vines and being separated from her friends and running into Zuko and helping him and being unsure of exactly what she was heading towards, the thought on the top of Mai’s mind was not nervousness or fear but overwhelming gratitude that she was not in the same clothes as Lord Zuko.

He was wet and dirty, and she was pretty sure if her clothes were in such a state she’d simply rip them off in frustration.

Not to mention that the loud squelching noise that preceded each of Zuko’s steps meant traveling anywhere quietly was an impossibility.

It was a far cry from the noble setting in which they’d both been raised, and though there were many things she’d forsaken from her childhood, hygiene and cleanliness was not one of them.

Finally, Mai could not bite her tongue a moment longer. “Why don’t you just use your firebending to dry off?” she asked, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between them.

“Because,” he grumbled at her, “Every time I start to dry off-“

His words were cut off by loud cracking beneath them and the dry wood they’d been using to cross over the stagnant water groaned and gave way suddenly.

They both crashed into the water. It took Mai’s brain a moment to catch up with her body – the wood snagged her clothes and scratched her skin, and all she could think of was how uncomfortably _warm_ the water was as she gagged and spit and tried to wipe her eyes.

Then she cleared her eyes – or opened them, she wasn’t sure if they’d been closed or not, and all that greeted her was red. She was in thick, dark, red blood, up to her waist. The smell of burnt flesh again graced her nostrils. Her clothes, once a dark green that blended well with Earth Kingdom crowds, were now a dark burgundy, rivulets running down her arms and drying in little pools at her fingertips and under her nails.

A hand traveled up and grasped the end of her ponytail – an unconscious habit from childhood – and squeezed before coming away with red, the crimson stuff seeping and sticking between her fingers.

It was in her _hair_.

Later, Mai would never be able to recall exactly what happened in the minutes that followed. She could have always asked Zuko, but both declined to talk about their experiences in the swamp, especially in front of each other.

What Mai did remember came in short bursts – her throat raw with shrieking, lunging through the bloody water, it swirling around her feet and legs and reaching for the bank, clawing at her hair and tunic, trying to get the blood off, retching and trying to hold her breath to get away from the stench, and the sound of splashing and very faint laughing that, much later, made Mai wonder if she’d been hearing things on the wind or if it was coming from the deep part of her brain that was still slightly sane.

Firm hands gripped her shoulders, forcing her down onto the bank. She screamed again, letting out some curses that would make Ty Lee’s hair curl and struck out, connecting solidly with hard flesh.

“Ow, you dumb-“ the next thing she felt was a hard stinging on her cheek. Mai blinked, shook her head, and looked wordlessly up at Zuko, was standing in front of her, still knee deep in the water and a heavy weight on her shoulders as he held her down up on the bank.

“What happened to you?” There was a distinct edge of panic in Zuko’s voice.

Mai blinked again and looked down. Her hands were clear. Her clothes, though soaking wet, were still green. The water Zuko was standing in was a murky brownish green color.

There was no red anywhere, except for Zuko’s clothes and the bright red handprint that was rapidly bruising on his lower jaw.

Mai turned abruptly and heaved again, but nothing came up, and all she could do was sit there for a moment, shaking. “I thought…” she trailed off, looking for the words – now that she had to explain what had happened, it seemed ludicrous. “Everything…”

Zuko looked at her intently, then climbed out of the water and settled next to her and started wringing out his hair. “You saw something?” he asked in a low voice. “I’ve seen things too. Something about this place… it makes you see things you’re afraid of.”

“You’ve seen-?” Mai asked hesitantly, not sure exactly what answer she wanted.

“My dad,” he explained, looking down at his boots. “And my mom.” He looked back up at Mai, eyes earnestly wide, as if not sure whether he was comforting her or himself. “None of it is real. It’s not easy to tell yourself that…”

“It felt real,” Mai said flatly, remembering the stickiness between her fingers. There was a reason she preferred the knives over hand-to-hand combat; it was possible to throw knives and clean them off later. There was absolutely no touching of someone else’s fluids or dirty body. It was a sterile branch of fighting – one clean cut and the fight was over.

“Either way,” Zuko stood up and looked around, as if trying to find a horizon to head towards through all the trees. “We need to get out of here.” He offered her his hand.

She gazed at it impassively. “What about Azula?”

“Listen, I won’t leave you here alone. I know what it’s like to be abandoned.” There was a harsh tightness to Zuko’s voice. “Let’s just get out of here, and then you can worry about Azula all you want. Right now you need to worry about yourself.”

Her eyes stayed on his open hand. Some subconscious part of her was probably aware of the big step it would mean, taking it and getting up with Zuko. What she said, however, with a hand going up to her cheek, was: “Did you hit me?”

The hand was withdrawn, flying to his hips, and Zuko frowned at her. “You hit me first.”

_   
_

* * *

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Puris Naturalibus – Completely Naked


	11. Aut Vincere Aut Mori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang and Katara run into trouble, Azula travels with Ty Lee, and Jet makes his move

They were quiet as they picked their way through the swamp. Katara kept her eyes focused ahead, trying to ignore the flashes of red she could catch out of the corner of her eyes from the blood that still stained her clothing. There was a numb, empty feeling in her chest and her arms and legs felt heavy, making every step she took an effort. It was related, she was sure, to the intense pressure that seemed to surround them, as if the atmosphere itself were collapsing in on them and crushing them.

“Katara.”

Lift foot, step forward.

“Katara.”

Now the other foot.

“_Katara!_”

She hadn’t realized Aang had stopped walking until he moved into her field of vision, calling her name a fourth time and grabbing her by the shoulders.

“What?” she asked blankly, looking up into his concerned face.

“Do you realize where we are?” he asked, looking up into the shadows above them.

Katara looked. In front of her was a tree – the largest of the forest, it stretched around, blocking her view of anything else. Looking down, she could see its roots twisting under and over the ground, spreading out through the rest of the swamp.

“We’re in the center of the swamp.” The tree truly was an awesome sight, towering over them.

“I can try to find the others here,” Aang said softly, running his hand softly over the truck.

A shot of panic ran through her. “Don’t you remember what happened last time you tried that?” she asked, not bothering to try to hide the anxiety in her voice.

“Of course I do,” he answered gently, a dark look coming into his eyes. “But we need to get out of here, and this is the best way to find everyone.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Instinctively, Katara rocked forward, suddenly on alert as Aang stilled. Before he could make the connection to the swamp, however, something broke his concentration. Aang’s eyes snapped open and moved up, focusing on the dark canopy above them.

“Stay here,” he murmured to her, bending at the knees slightly and taking off before Katara could object, shooting up into the branches with a sharp gust of wind that ruffled through her clothes.

She peered up where he had jumped, but all she could see was darkness. There was neither movement nor sound, and Katara’s heart picked up, thumping harshly as her arms started to tremble. The entire swamp itself seemed to have stilled, as if waiting in anticipation along with Katara.

She let out an involuntary gasp when she saw a flash of light above her and heard a harsh cracking sound. Aang’s name slipped in a desperate cry as she ran her eyes over the tree, searching wildly for a way to climb up.

Before she could make a move forward, however, there was a soft thump from behind her. Turning slowly, her heart skipped a beat then started racing madly, a dull roar of relief in her ears as she took in Aang’s crouching form, one hand on the ground to steady himself.

“Aang,” she breathed, taking a step forward. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Aang stood up, brushing lightly at the dirt on his tunic and pants. Katara watched apprehensively. There was something different about him – something about the way he was holding himself, as if there was some tightly coiled energy just waiting to explode from him – as if he were holding himself back in a way he never had before.

“_Aang_,” she called, a little more firmly, a little more desperately, and before she could wonder why he was ignoring her he lifted his head and made eye contact with her, his face splitting into a grin.

She recoiled from the force of his look, looking back down at the ground. He walked towards her – it seemed to her that his steps were heavier, because she couldn’t recall an instance when she’d ever _heard_ Aang walk – and her neck automatically craned back to look up at him as he moved closer to her, invading her personal space.

“Aang, what hap-“ she cut herself off as his hands moved up, skimming over her shoulders and coming to rest behind her neck, thumbs gently rubbing circles at the hairline behind her ears, reminiscent of their first dance those days ago in Ba Sing Se, when he’d given her the necklace currently hanging around her neck.

His grip tightened and he pulled her forward into a hot, demanding kiss. She rocked back in surprise before instinctively leaning into it, closing her eyes and allowing him to move against her.

It wasn’t until she felt the rough bark of the tree at her back that her eyes flew open again. She hadn’t even been aware that he’d pushed her back, and when she gave a little cry of surprise and tried to pull away, he only moved his hands from her neck down to her upper arms, gripping her painfully and pushing her back against the tree before dipping his head down again and grazing her lower lip with his teeth.

The relief Katara had previously felt fled. Turning her head away and trying to catch her breath, he merely dropped his mouth further, his rough tongue and teeth and hot breath on her neck.

“Aang!” she called again, struggling slightly against the firm grip of his hands.

He didn’t stop. “It’s been so long,” he mouthed against her, “since I tasted…”

Katara whimpered and pulled harder, one hand twisting to reach the cork of her water skin. “Stop.”

He listened this time, and moved his head away from her neck to face her again. The grin from before was back on his face, the corners of his lips curling and his eyes narrowing slightly.

Panic set in, and she struggled to remain calm as he leaned forward again, nuzzling against her chin before moving up and hovering over her lips again. “_Who_ _are_ _you_?” she asked quietly before his lips brushed hers and his mouth pressed down and demanded access to hers once again.

* * *

He’d gotten mud on his tunic. He really had made an attempt to be careful, playing outdoors, but the recent rain had soaked the ground and Tom Tom had been outside for barely a half hour before he’d splashed into a puddle by accident, leaving a long streak up the middle of his tunic.

His mother was going to kill him unless he got back to his room before she called him for dinner.

Tom Tom slipped into the house, calling on every single one of his skills as a seven-year-old child to be stealthy; the house was large enough, but he wasn’t sure where his parents were at this exact moment. He had no worries about running into any of the servants – as long as he wasn’t tracking the mud in on his feet, they would keep his secret.

The only real obstacle was the Hall of Doorways – his bedroom was located at the far end of said hall, but behind the various doorways there was also his father’s office, his parents’ master bedroom, and the main bathing room of the house. A sinister person could be lurking behind any door, ready to pop out, unwanted, at any moment.

Ears straining, he crept past the first doorway, his father’s office, and froze when he heard his name spoken.

“They wouldn’t!” his father’s voice was shocked, but his mother – she was crying, _again_ – pressed on, talking over him.

“They would. Look at the reports! The Fire Lord and Avatar missing in the Earth Kingdom, just up and disappeared from the grand palace of Ba Sing Se.” Her voice was jagged, but her tone didn’t interest Tom Tom – his mother was always upset over one thing or another – as much as the words she was speaking. The Avatar and the Fire Lord were not often mentioned in his house, and then only quietly, with bitter reverence from his mother and anxious fear from his father.

“Ba Sing Se isn’t _like_ Omashu,” his father countered calmly. “They have better defenses – if they left it was for good reason.”

“It doesn’t matter why they left. Only that they left, and disappeared. They certainly have enemies still living over there in the Earth Kingdom.” His mother’s voice was getting stronger. “Enemies who have done ruthless things during the war-“

“So you _do_ think Mai is involved in all this?”

_Mai_.

A name spoken even less than that of the Fire Lord and Avatar. His parent’s never said the name, but he’d heard whispers from the staff more than once, almost never complimentary. He’d asked his nurse once who Mai was, and was rewarded with a shush and a swat before she finally revealed that she had been his older sister who had died during the war.

Tom Tom had gotten off light. He’d heard the staff complaining about the nurse’s lecture the next morning.

He wasn’t sure what was happening with the Avatar and the Fire Lord in places that he’d only read about in his studies, but they were clearly recent events and his parents were talking about his deceased sister as if she were still alive.

Against his better judgment he leaned closer to the door, trying to catch more of his parents’ words.

“I believe Princess Azula is responsible for all of this. And I would like to say that Mai isn’t, but if she and Ty Lee and Princess Azula have stayed together and haven’t split up in exile, then Mai is almost certainly involved in this. And besides,” his mother’s voice lowered and Tom Tom leaned even closer to the door, dropping down into a crouch, with his back flat against the wall, “It doesn’t matter who is actually responsible for this mess. If we reached this conclusion so easily, don’t you think General Iroh and the rest of Fire Lord’s advisors have as well?”

There was a brief silence. Tom Tom could just picture his father running his hand through his hair – his mother often remarked that it was going to make him go bald early if he didn’t stop.

“They’ll believe Mai is involved, and they’ll try to find her,” his father conceded wearily.

“And the first place they’ll look-“

“They _have_ to know we have no contact with her!”

“We’re her only family!” His mother’s voice was starting to clog up; she was clearly near tears again. “They’ll come here looking for information about her, and I will not risk Tom Tom. Not after Omashu.”

She was definitely crying again. His father’s voice was angry as he snapped, “Well then what do you suggest we do?”

Tom Tom didn’t wait to hear the answer. Standing up, he bolted for his room, not caring how much noise he made. Ripping off his stained tunic and throwing it aside, he pulled open his drawer and searched for a new one.

What had his mother meant by risking him? They lived quietly, out in the country in a small estate. They would have no reason to catch the Fire Lord’s eye – Tom Tom was even being schooled at home and hadn’t been sent to academy to learn weapons training so he could join the army – something he wanted, and his parents forbid.

There was a light knock on the door, and Tom Tom was still wrestling with his shirt when it opened and his nurse peered in curiously at him.

“Dinner’s almost ready- what’s the matter with you?” She blinked at him, hands settling on her hips.

Tom Tom set his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “You said my sister was dead.”

The surprise at his words was evident at her face. Tilting her head slightly, she checked down the hall for any signs of his parents, then came fully into the room and quietly pulled the door shut behind her.

She tsked at him, rocking back on her heels and leaning against the door. “Eavesdropping isn’t a proper habit for a young man such as yourself.”

He just glared at her, and a smile ghosted across her face.

“Alright. You want the real story then?”

* * *

One thing about being blind, Toph had found and often worked to her advantage, was that it was very easy to stay in denial about something she didn’t want to acknowledge. She didn’t want to talk to that noble brat that her father was so fond of? He was ignored. Students at the academy were bothering her? She developed a sudden case of deafness to go with the blindness.

It was, of course, a lot harder to ignore the quiet, persistent voice that came from neither outside her ears nor inside her head.

_A life for a life_, she’d been told, but before she could react Sokka had arrived and saved her. Had Sokka been sent or was it by chance?

“_There are many ways to repay this debt_,” she was told. It was a calm, sexless voice that spoke to her, that sounded wild and tame, desperate and confident, the contradictions shifting clearly despite the monotonous tone of the voice.

“_You are an honorable lady, Toph Bei Fong_. _Surely you would not ignore what you owe_?” She curled up tighter, scooting closer to the warmth of the fire and digging her toes deeper into the soil. No one was moving, no one was around them, and no one was talking to her. She was not worried, and she most certainly was not afraid, because that would indicate that there was something to be afraid _of_-

“_Which would be easier for you, Blind Bandit? To sacrifice yourself or to sacrifice another_?” Next to her, Sokka let out a loud snore, and the voice sounded almost amused when it spoke again:

“_It would be a shame, seeing as how I just saved you, but_ _of course you would sacrifice yourself, although I suspect your companion would have some issues with that_.” She could actually hear her teeth gritting. A headache was started to form at her temples from clenching her jaw so tightly – although the clenched jaw, she would never admit, was not only out of determination to remain ignorant but also intense nausea; Sokka had tried to make her eat another bug that evening before settling down.

“_You are in denial about death, my dear. I know you’ve seen it – why do you go out of your way to ignore it_? _Surely you’ve faced your own mortality_?” The question was innocent enough, but it was enough to finally provoke a response out of Toph. Her experiences with death – during the war, during the rebellions and peace process, even while she was just in the swamp – firmly fell under the category of things she willingly turned a blind eye to.

“I _do not_! Leave me _alone_!” she cried, and across the fire she felt Sokka’s body shift, before he sat up a little bit.

“Are you okay, Toph?” he called out blearily.

Toph froze, unsure how to reply.

“_Soon_.” The voice got in the last word before disappearing from her mind once again.

Sokka sat up a little straighter. “Toph?” he called again, concern creeping into his voice.

She was worried about him – he was worrying himself sick about Katara and Aang, not to mention she suspected he was worried about Ty Lee and the possibility of running into Azula, despite the fact that there was really nothing he could do about them.

So, denial it was.

“I’m fine,” she answered firmly, hoping he didn’t notice her hands clutching the earth, fingers clawing their way down to see as much as possible. “I started to fall asleep and must have dreamed.”

Sokka sat up all the way, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. “You dream?” he asked, surprised.

“I can see pictures in my head,” she answered curtly, hoping he’d drop the subject.

“Oh.” He stared forlornly into the fire for a moment.

“You can go back to sleep,” Toph pointed out. “It’s not near your watch, and I’m not even tired.”

“I’ll stay up,” he said, reaching for a stick and poking it into the fire. There was a heavy pause before he asked hesitantly, “So can you feel anyone moving around here?”

Toph could actually feel a lot moving – she had thought being in the desert with the sand that blurred her sense of vision was bad, but in the swamp it was a total sensory overload. It never rested, it was never still, and it was full of all different kinds of movement - movement up through all the vines, and things crawling through the shallow water and sometimes, occasionally, humans; Ty Lee and Azula were staying in the very edge of her vision, though they’d wandered out of it for the time being.

She suspected that he wanted to know most about Ty Lee – though she was sure Sokka wanted more than anything to find Aang and Katara, the threat to them was too big for Sokka to handle all at once. Ty Lee going back to Azula – Azula being in the swamp at all – _that_ was a small enough danger for Sokka to seize on and focus all his energies on.

It was childish, it was petty, and it was completely irrational considering their situation, but Toph decided that before they got out of the swamp she might like to beat up Ty Lee. Again. After all, they hadn’t had a decent match-up since during the war…

She amused herself momentarily with these thoughts, until Sokka loudly cleared his throat and called her name uncertainly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“What?” she jumped, startled by his question.

“I asked if you were okay. You’re acting funnier than usual.”

Toph was glad that Sokka did not share her ability to tell when others were lying; her heart was racing as she attempted to placate him. Truly, the last thing he needed was someone else to worry about. “I’m fine!” She bit her lip. “Well, maybe I am getting a little tired.”

“Why don’t you go to sleep, then? I told you I’d stay up.” There was a note of irritation in his voice, and Toph’s eyebrows creased.

“Fine,” she snapped back at him, dropping onto her back and slamming her arms together, bringing up a rock tent to cover her.

If the big dumb moron wanted to be a big dumb worrywart on his own, fine by her.

That didn’t stop her from staying up the rest of the night with him, feet firmly planted so she could see everything around her.

* * *

Azula had thought that she would be relieved to be reunited with Ty Lee, and to a degree she truly was: she finally had someone to take out her building rage on.

“Keep up,” she snapped over her shoulder, not even looking to make sure that Ty Lee was okay after tripping yet again. It was funny – the vines hadn’t been that much of a burden before Ty Lee had found her, but over the course of the day and into the night (Azula had refused to stop, no matter what time it was) they had become more troublesome, as if deliberately seeking out the pair and trying to impede their journey through the swamp.

Ty Lee had found her in the middle of the previous night, nearly taking Azula by surprise as she tripped through the woods, determined not to stop but to find Zuko and destroy him. Zhao’s constant appearance had only reminded her of her failure in this regard – she’d had Zuko right in front of her!

The fact that the swamp catching on fire had interrupted them shouldn’t have stopped her, nor should have the distress of her friends; the entire reason she was friends with them in the first place was because they could take care of themselves. And even if they couldn’t take care of themselves, it still should not have distracted her from her main goal. It went against everything she had been taught, everything that had been drilled into her, everything that she _believed_ in and fought for.

At least, she had found with some satisfaction, Ty Lee seemed to have recovered from the petrifying fear that had been plaguing them when they had entered the swamp – that, or she had simply shut up about it. Both were fine with Azula.

Although she was still as unnaturally quiet as she had been before, there was no longer the air of a wounded animal around her, and frankly, Azula was half glad she was quiet, for once in her life. She wasn’t in the mood for idle chatter – or Agni forbid, _singing_ – because all it would be was another distraction she would have to overcome.

They had exchanged some words, to be sure. When Ty Lee had first found her, she’d asked if Azula had been hurt, which of course Azula been. Thankfully, after they’d met up again Zhao had stopped coming to her – though she still caught flashes of red out of the corner of her eye – leaving her mind free to ponder exactly what his words had meant and exactly how she had failed in beating Zuko.

Once, just once, she had spoken to Ty Lee – when she was thinking about her brother she turned to her and blurted out, “You didn’t run into anyone, did you? Did you see my brother?”

Ty Lee had gone pale and done an impressive impersonation of a gasping fish before spluttering out, “No! No, I was alone. I don’t know where Zuko went, but I didn’t run into anyone.”

She was clearly lying, but Azula had decided that at the moment, it didn’t matter. Zuko wasn’t right in front of her and, in the end, she had to appear confident in Ty Lee’s loyalty. They could take their time for the moment, because she would run into Zuko again before this whole ordeal in the swamp was over, and this time, she would not allow her mind to wander and become sidetracked by any petty distractions.

Her place in life was clear, and others had sacrificed so she could achieve that – Zhao had served not only to remind her but to strengthen her resolve. She would tear Zuko down and reclaim the throne that should have been hers to begin with.

Unleashing a bright blue flame, she slashed her way through a wall of vines that had been blocking her way. Azula took two steps before she realized Ty Lee was lagging again. Stopping and turning back to glare at her, she instead found herself speechless at Ty Lee’s posture.

She was standing stiffly; hand up on one tree, head tilted and eyes closed, as if listening intently to something faint.

Azula let out a huff of irritation (steam rose up through the vines above her) and retraced her steps back over to the focused acrobat. When Azula got into her personal space, Ty Lee finally opened her eyes, not flinching despite Azula’s close range and the glare on her face.

“What are you doing?” Azula demanded, not stepping back from Ty Lee.

Ty Lee wasn’t intimidated. Instead she raised a hand invitingly and asked softly, “Can’t you hear it?”

“Hear _what_?” Azula’s patience was nonexistent to begin with, and now even attempts to ignore Ty Lee were no longer working.

“The swamp,” Ty Lee said simply. “Can’t you hear the swamp?”

The utter stupidity of the statement left Azula speechless. Her mind was racing for the best way to tell Ty Lee off and snap her attention back to the task at hand when the wind picked up again, rustling through the trees, and there, underneath the wind were the whispers. They were different from the low timber of Zhao’s voice, which she’d been hearing all along – they were soft and wrapped around, sliding into her mind and forcing her to understand.

Caught by surprise, Azula rocked forward defensively, barely catching herself on Ty Lee’s shoulder. A glimmer of triumph and gratitude rose up in Ty Lee’s eyes, and then Azula’s shocked expression morphed back into the sneer she had perfected long ago.

“I hear nothing,” she said shortly, turning her back on Ty Lee. “Let’s keep moving. Don’t fall behind again.”

* * *

Bao had to give Jet credit – what he lacked in formal education and money (and hygiene), he made up for in sheer, pure luck.

Even the sky itself bowed to the whims of Jet, giving them a cloudy, wet night that provided them with plenty of cover as they worked their way through the forest – moving mostly up in the trees – towards the storehouse where the weapons were kept.

They reached a small clearing several yards off the northern entrance to the storehouse and dropped from the trees, nobody needing light to know where their companions were in the darkness.

“Are you sure you have everything?” Jet asked quietly. In front of him stood the small group, mostly standing still with the exception of Smellerbee, who was rocking from heel to heel in excitement.

“We triple-checked before we left camp!” she snapped impatiently. Bao was slightly glad that he couldn’t see her stroking the jar of blasting jelly possessively; he would be glad if he never heard her rapture on about the superior qualities of their homemade mixture over the Fire Nation’s version ever again.

“Alright then.” Jet was shoulder to shoulder with Bao, and yet his entire demeanor seemed to suggest someone leaning back casually in the trees, stalk of grass planted firmly in his mouth. “Have at it. We meet back here once everything goes up in smoke.”

For several minutes all that could be heard was the whooshing of the leaves and the soft snap of branches, and then all was quiet and Bao was once again left alone with Jet. They’d decided to stay behind while the rest of the Freedom Fighters went ahead – once it was all over the two of them were going to be responsible for transporting and hiding the weapons stolen from the storehouse. Afterwards Bao was going to have to continue on with his original mission – the one Bumi had sent him on – but for now, he felt as relaxed as he had in years, once again fighting alongside his childhood friends.

That didn’t stop him from wanting to fill the silence, however. Years spent with Bumi had made him used to a stream of constant chatter, and even though Jet had never been the type for idle conversation – unless it was for some sort of personal gain – Bao still couldn’t help trying to initiate chat.

“So…”

“Shh,” Jet shushed him immediately. Bao felt an embarrassed blush crawl up his neck before Jet grabbed his arm and hissed, “Someone’s coming.”

They scrambled up into the trees, looking down at the lights bobbling under them as members of the Earth Kingdom army ran towards the storehouse. Jet swore softly under his breath before dropping back out of the tree the moment the last soldier crossed back into the line of trees before tilting back his head and calling back up to Bao.

“I don’t know who tipped them off, but the Freedom Fighters don’t know-“

“Don’t know what?” interrupted a cool, calm voice. “That we’ve arrived to arrest them?”

Bao, about to jump down from his precarious perch on a slim branch, froze and scrambled for purchase. For the first time he could ever recall, Jet seemed taken aback.

“Who are you?”

“21st infantry, Colonel Haru.”

Bao’s mind was racing – he had assured Jet that the infantries hadn’t been called anywhere to prevent people from panicking; to have the divisions out and moving either meant that something had changed since he had left Ba Sing se or that he had been misled in his communication with others. For a moment, he wondered just how much Bumi was aware of before being drawn back into the situation.

Haru was already stripping Jet of his weapons and ordering him to his knees; Jet was complying for the time being, clearly waiting for Bao to jump down and bail him out from the situation.

Bao hesitated.

He’d always stayed loyal to Jet, in a vague sort of way. Even after he’d been accepted as a high ranking member of Bumi’s government, to the point where he’d been part of the group that was supposed to _arrest_ Jet, he’d always done whatever he could to help the leader of the Freedom Fighters avoid capture. Some called his childhood loyalty; Bao called it prudence, knowing that even with his position as heir of Omashu he might need the Freedom Fighters as allies someday.

There was very little communication with Jet over the years – Bao had left the Freedom Fighters on good terms, but somewhat guiltily, knowing that he’d been the only member of Jet’s little group to have earthbending abilities, and that those abilities had been the only reason another family (a noble family from Bumi’s court that they’d tried to _rob_, no less) had decided to take him in.

He believed as strongly as Jet did that the Fire Nation needed to be destroyed and all traces of it removed from the Earth Kingdom, but unlike Jet he was trying to do it from the inside. The only reason he’d sought to help Jet when Bumi had sent him on his little mission was his absolute certainty that he’d be able to get away with it, this push in the right direction; Jet was more than known for his stealth.

But now Jet was being arrested right before his eyes, and members of the army were going after the rest of the Freedom Fighters. Bao could abandon Jet and take off through the trees, escaping easily since he’d never been seen and had an alibi to begin with – or he could attack a colonel of the Earth Kingdom army and risk exposing himself as a traitor to Bumi’s peacekeeping cause, maintaining his loyalty to Jet.

His hesitation was what made the decision for him; a loud explosion ripped its way through the forest, shaking the ground and rocking the trees. Bao never thought he’d be happy to hear from Smellerbee and her blasting jelly.

Jumping from the tree and calling a large rock up to his hands, he let a small grin slip; Colonel Haru would never know what hit him.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aut Vincere Aut Mori - Either Conquer or Die


	12. Dramatis Personae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara confronts the intruder, Aang explores his surroundings, and Ty Lee starts to doubt

With a gasp, Aang’s eyes snapped open. Shooting up, he looked around and tried to remember what had happened – he’d seen something moving in the trees, and had climbed up to look –

He caught sight of his hand out of the corner of his eye and looked down. Transparent and glowing blue. He’d fallen into the Spirit World somehow, without even trying. He knew he should have been concerned, but he’d long accepted that the swamp did weird things to him, so mostly he felt irritated. Hopping lightly on the branches, he made his way back down to the ground, wondering if his body had fallen and if Katara had been forced to heal any physical injuries –

He then caught sight of Katara – and his body. A strange noise left his lungs – not quiet a gasp, but a soft noise of dismay – as he watched the scene in front of him: his body, holding Katara by the arms against the tree, his head, dipped low to kiss her, and Katara’s eyes – wide open and panicked.

“Hey!” he cried, running over and trying to grab himself by the shoulder – it didn’t work, of course, since he was in the spirit world, but it seemed to catch the attention of whatever was controlling his body because it pulled away from Katara and tilted it’s head towards Aang, as if it could hear him.

“Do you mind?” he asked angrily, crossing his arms impatiently. His thoughts, instead of worrying about why a spirit had taken his body – something that had never happened before without his permission – were centered on how he was going to explain this whole incident to Katara, who was already in a bad state and looking even more horrified by the moment.

The spirit in his body chuckled at him – a deep, throaty laugh that he was _sure_ he’d never made before - and let go of Katara, who sagged against the tree.

“It’s all mine now,” he said quietly before reaching out and flicking Aang right in the center of the arrow on his forehead. The force of it, however, was if he’d thrown all his body weight into it and Aang went flying, passing easily through the trunks of several trees before landing hard with an “ooph!” in the middle of a small clearing, nearly grown over with roots and tall grass. For a moment he lay there, blinking dazedly up into the brush, and wondered exactly what had happened and who was in his body.

And then he recalled, very vividly and clearly, that whoever was in his body was alone with Katara – and had already taken advantage of that fact once before. A heavy weight settled in his chest, that emotion he was so familiar with crawling through him like a blush. Even the most rational part of his mind felt the responsibility; the remorse for not seeing it coming; the guilt for letting it happen whether or not he was in control of the situation.

He sat up and once again took in his surroundings. It was a small clearing, full of tall yellow grass, and other dying plants. It was surrounded by a ring of black trees; nearly impenetrable, they grew so close together. Aang stood up and brushed himself off, putting a hand up to the tree closest to him and found that it was solid to him; passing through would be impossible. The grass was bent and broken, tracing jagged circling lines around the clearing, as if someone had paced through there, constantly. It was so quiet that the silence rang in Aang’s ears – there was no one around to help him.

Something glinted out of the corner of his eye. Aang looked up and realized he could see the sky again - it was painted a dark orange, and scarlet clouds floated gently through it, something that could have almost been seen as tranquil if not for the disturbing colors. Tearing his eyes from the sky, he turned and frowned, eyebrows creasing in confusion.

There, in the middle of the clearing, sat a tarnished gold throne. He walked towards it as if it were about to explode, unsure of its purpose. There was worn scarlet velvet coating the back and seat, and the when he reached out and ran his fingers over the back it was cool to the touch, despite the heavy, warm air. There were claw and scratch marks all over the arms, which were sculpted into the curled paws of a boar-lion. It was a quality piece of furniture that had clearly gone through years of use.

It was almost magnetic – Aang couldn’t tear his attention away from it despite the fact that he had far greater things to worry about; he needed to find a way out of there and get his body back; he needed to get back to protect Katara; he needed to find Sokka and Toph and Zuko; he needed to find a way out of the swamp – all of these fell to the back of his mind as he studied the throne. Deep in the recesses of his subconscious something pulled and tugged, some stray thought that was not entirely his threatened to break free and make itself known and explain what this throne was – and why it almost seemed familiar to him.

“What _is_ this place?” he asked himself softly, hands reaching out and running along the curved edge of the back of the throne.

So intense was his focus that he didn’t realize that he’d spoken out loud, and therefore nearly jumped ten feet into the air when he received a response: “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll tell you about it?”

* * *

Iroh was eating lunch alone when he felt it, like the rolling grey clouds that signaled the approaching storm.

He was so startled he spilled his tea.

The servants busy clearing the rest of the table stopped and gawked at him openly.

He coughed in embarrassment and waved off their concern. “I’m fine! I’m feeling fine – these old hands aren’t as steady as they used to be.” Excusing himself, he stood up and announced that he was returning to his office to get a head start on work.

Halfway out the door he stopped, turned, and kindly asked that another pot of ginseng tea be sent to his office. The servants, too unnerved to press him further, scrambled to fill his request.

The atmosphere itself seemed heavier than it had moments ago, and instead of going into his office Iroh found himself going down the twisting and turning hallways to reach the small room that only Zuko and the maids ever really took notice of. Pulling the heavy metal door open, he slipped inside the room, blinking in the glaring sun.

The room, specifically placed to face the east, was Lord Zuko’s private mediation room – his own temple to Agni. Zuko had designed it himself, with floor to ceiling stained glass windows and a small alter at the center with an ever-burning flame.

In times of stress or unease Zuko had been known to hole himself up in here for hours – Iroh recalled how he’d been unsure about attending the conference in Ba Sing Se and had found guidance and comfort here in the temple.

Closing his eyes, Iroh dropped to his knees and exhaled, the four candles lining the front of the alter springing to life as he did so. The feeling of unease in his stomach grew, even as he murmured a prayer to Agni, something as well known and comforting to him as a childhood blanket.

His connection with the spirit world being what it was, he knew instantly that something had happened to upset the balance between the worlds – the political situation being what it was, it was obvious that the Avatar and his nephew were at the center of it.

What though – what could possibly upset the balance that badly? That _quickly_? It had come out of nowhere, rolling across the world like a shock wave after something impacted the earth.

In his ears he could hear the cracking of fire, snapping loudly all around him. Opening his eyes, he saw red and orange flames surrounding him, engulfing the room, licking at his arms and up his back. He frowned at the flames and reached out, cupping them in his hands as if they were a drink of water, and staring into them. They flared for a moment before turning blue and there was a flash of pain in his palm before he dropped them and looked around, watching in wonder as a ring of blue fire sprang up around the edge of the orange fire and started to overtake the orange flame and close in on Iroh, moving towards the center.

Iroh’s head tilted back, and above him the night sky sprawled out, black and endless. Despite the fact that they were due for a full moon there was neither pale light nor shining orb, only the millions upon millions of white stars that graced the sky, reaching far beyond the horizon and beyond Iroh’s sight, each with it’s own place and it’s own shine, impossible to count but easily distinct from one another.

Once, early in his travels with the young Avatar, Iroh had been training privately late one night, trying to teach the Avatar how to fight around the disadvantage he had as a firebender at night. Aang could focus when he had to, but this particular night he’d kept getting distracted, and finally Iroh had broken stance to ask him about it.

“Monk Gyatso told me once, right after I found out I was Avatar-“ Aang cut himself off, shoulders sagging for a moment, then turned to Iroh and asked, almost hopefully, “Why do you think there’re stars up there in the sky?”

“Agni,” Iroh answered at once. Aang’s face drew a question mark, and Iroh continued, “The stars are Agni’s eternally burning flames, placed in the night sky to guide the firebenders when his sun cannot give them strength.”

Aang had nodded, musing on this. The anxiousness hadn’t seened to leave his spirit, however, and Iroh had gently prodded, “What did Monk Gyatso tell you?”

“Right after the monks told me I was the Avatar, and I was afraid and Gyatso wanted to comfort me, he told me that the stars were all the Avatars in history, looking down on me.” He had paused for a long moment before confessing, “It just upset me even more.”

“And why is that?”

“Because no matter how high I flew,” Aang said faintly, “No matter how hard I tried, I could never reach the stars. They always seemed so far away.” He had turned and looked Iroh right in the eyes, and for a dark, terrible moment Iroh had seen, laid bare, the incredible burden that the young man had been forced to take on and how very alone he sometimes felt.

This memory was in the back of Iroh’s mind when from the east rose an unholy light, a column of white that broke into the night sky, forcing Iroh to look away as colored dots danced in front of his eyes.

This beacon called out, and the stars answered, moving from the night sky as if pulled towards the light. Iroh’s jaw dropped as millions of flying stars, too fast to even catch with the bare eye, passed over him, shooting towards their destination with a single-minded goal. The column of light grew larger but still the stars continued to come.

Heat crawled up his arms and chest – the blue flames had reached the center and were now engulfing Iroh, the fire crawling up his body. He could feel the heat on his neck now, sweat pouring down his face, but the light drew his attention again as it finally exploded, filling the entire world with a blindingly intense white light. Iroh threw his arm up over his eyes –

And with a gasp came to, eyes snapping open and taking in his surroundings. The candles on the alter were burned low, the red wax dripping off the table and down the edge of the black marble, reminding Iroh disturbingly of dripping blood. He stood up, knee joints popping, and gave a sigh of relief. He’d fallen asleep meditating – a terrible habit Zuko always railed at him for, especially when he started snoring and disrupted the services – and had dreamed a terrible nightmare. He was completely unharmed –

Except for the dark red blister forming in the palm of his hand, the result of a terrible burn.

* * *

Her legs weren’t working. They were simply overwhelmed and could no longer go on walking, let alone carrying her weight. Katara remained slumped against the trunk of the tree in the center of the swamp, staring dumbly down at her non-working legs and wondering, exactly, what had just happened and who was controlling Aang.

Whatever had momentarily stolen his attention was gone, and he turned his piercing gaze back to her. She nearly flinched; the look in his eyes was almost cruel with wide-eyed wonderment – the same look she had witnessed on Aang’s face during new experiences countless times before.

“Wh-Who are you?” she asked again, fear making her voice watery and brash at the same time.

He blinked and looked thoughtful. “I no longer remember my name. I forgot it a long time ago.” Then he turned away from her again, staring off through the trees as if searching for something.

She should have been trying to run away, trying to get out of there, trying to help somehow, but her legs still wouldn’t work, heavy and useless as she leaned against the tree and tried to catch her breath.

“It would be useless, you know,” he interjected suddenly, interrupting her panicked thoughts.

“Wha…?”

He came over to her and grabbed her by the forearms, easily hauling her up and putting her right on her feet. Instantly her knees began to shake, and she grabbed at the trunk for support before she fell again.

“Trying to get out of here without me. I’m the only one alive who knows how to get out of here – running away will only get you tangled even farther in the swamp, and with my pet running loose as well…” He trailed off, peering through the trees, as if wondering exactly where his pet had got to.

“Of course,” he continued, almost conversationally, “that’s if I decide to take you with me – You would certainly be an asset to me, since I’m not sure where the right one is, but I might not-“ He turned to look at her again, eyes burning with anger. “How would you like to be trapped her for hundreds of years, like I was? Your Avatar is trapped here – would you prefer to stay with him?”

“Why are you doing this?” she breathed, some strength finally returning to her limbs. “Aang never – he’s innocent-“

A sharp laugh rang out from the spirit – Katara shuddered at the unfamiliar noise – and he wheeled around to face her, the familiar body she knew so well so close to her own. “Innocent? Aang is not innocent.”

“He is-“ Katara started to insist, but she was cut off.

“Was he so innocent when he murdered the Fire Lord?” the spirit challenged.

Katara’s jaw dropped. “That’s completely – that wasn’t _murder_!” she spat. “That was-“

“You can justify it all you want – it’s what the Avatar has done all through history. Don’t you understand? It’s impossible to be innocent as the Avatar – you inherit not only the burden of the world but the sins of the past lives as well.” His eyes flashed dangerously. “And I promise you, no Avatar in history is innocent, but some far less so than others.” He drew even closer to her. “So the Avatar who slew Chin the Great? Aang. The Avatar who broke all the laws of the spirit world to cut down Koh? Aang. The Avatar who enabled Sozin’s war? Aang. The Avatar who imprisoned me in this swamp? They were all Aang.”

Katara was speechless. “You can’t blame – it’s not Aang-“

“Don’t you understand?” he snapped, his patience wearing thin. “It’s the law of the universe – the law of balance. What goes around comes around. Sins committed must be atoned for.”

“Is that who you are? The one who passes judgment?” Katara asked, feeling a shot of defensive anger on Aang’s behalf go through her.

He shrugged, turning away from her again and continuing his way around the tree. “The Avatar has been exempt from judgment for lifetimes. I may not be the one who is designated to pass judgment, but I have waited for hundreds of years to regain a physical body, and therefore I am merely filling my part in the law of balance by taking that of the Avatar’s.”

Terrible, righteous fury rose inside her, and for a moment she was so angry that she wanted to harm Aang’s body if it meant harming the awful creature who had taken it, but the moment she moved to fumble with her waterskin he lifted one of his hands and barely twitched; the waterskin at her side exploded.

“Are you forgetting,” he asked, voice low, not bothering to look back at her, “that you have taught me everything you know? You couldn’t hope to beat me.”

She’d lost her breath again. Panting slowly, eyes burning with unshed tears, limbs trembling with pent up fury, her hands stayed at her side, still in her stance, wondering what move to make next.

The stalemate was broken by a dull roar and a plume of blue flame that just barely caught at the hem of Katara’s sleeve. She wheeled away, her heart thundering in her throat.

“_Maybe they split up_,” she’d suggested earlier in the day, when Aang had wondered why she’d run into Mai but not Azula or Ty Lee.

She’d been partly right, she realized vaguely as the former princess advanced on her, taking no notice of the Avatar, her eyes glittering like a wolf that had cornered its prey. They had split up, but they were all still in the swamp.

* * *

She was letting her mind wander again, traveling back to the Water Tribe warrior and the blind girl, wondering vaguely where they were and if they were making it out all right. Despite her hostile attitude towards Ty Lee, the acrobat was actually slightly worried about her – Ty Lee had heard Toph muttering and tossing and turning in her little rock tent before she had heard Azula coming and left them behind.

How close Azula had come to them was nearly frightening – it had taken all of her power of persuasion to slowly push Azula slightly east – without arousing her suspicion – in order to avoid Sokka and Toph. The last thing Ty Lee wanted was to get into a fight with them.

Azula chose that moment to let out a bark of surprise and take off with absolutely no word of warning to Ty Lee. She jumped in surprise, just staring blankly at Azula’s running form for a moment before sighing, no longer surprised by her friend’s actions, and taking off, jogging lightly to keep her in sight but not attempting to catch up.

Azula had always been determined and stubborn to a fault – the fact that she had managed to spend five years in exile and still keep the air of a demanding princess about her was merely proof of that. She’d always been able to be loyal to everyone and no one at the same time, and Ty Lee had long suspected that the people Azula trusted most were neither her father nor any of her teachers but herself and Mai – and Agni certainly knew that Ty Lee and Mai had proved their loyalty to Azula, given everything they had gone through after the war.

Mai was sometimes in denial about it, for it was a thankless role they fulfilled, to keep the haughty princess Azula self-assured and confident. For the longest time Ty Lee had accepted it, sure that in the end it was worth it, to have Azula’s companionship and friendship – what passed for friendship with Azula, anyway. It was a choice Ty Lee had made willingly, enthusiastically.

For the first time in the years they’d known each other, Ty Lee was starting to doubt Azula. Not even at the very lowest point of her life, in those hellish weeks when they’d first been exiled, had Ty Lee doubted Azula’s ability to rise above it all, but ever since she’d received word about Zuko traveling to the Earth Kingdom, Azula had edged closer and closer to a dangerous precipice. And now, lost in this forsaken place with the sudden attacks from nowhere and the face-to-face meeting with her target itself, Azula was too confident, too focused, too brash and far too reckless, pushing beyond her limits to reach a goal that probably wasn’t even feasible at this point in time.

The furthest thought in her mind was of abandoning Azula, but Ty Lee couldn’t help wondering what, exactly, the outcome of this whole ordeal would be and how it was going to affect both Azula and herself.

She heard the distinct roar of Azula’s flame and picked up her pace, sure she was going to come upon the inevitable rematch between Zuko and Azula –

And was surprised when the blue light that flashed before her came not from Azula but from the warrior’s sister, the waterbender girl.

For a moment all she could do was gawk before looking around frantically to see if she was alone or if she had managed to meet up with Sokka and Toph again –

Then the same feeling of being watched – the one that had unnerved her so badly the night they had camped outside of the swamp – crawled up her spine to settle in her chest. Heart pounding, she looked around to meet the piercing gaze of the Avatar himself, standing straight and tall, hidden half behind the tree, staring right at her and not at all concerned with the deadly fight his lover was caught up in.

Ty Lee’s breath caught in her throat – how long had she known the Avatar? Met him, fought him, and even exchanged a few words with him in the heat of battle? She knew the young man, and this was not him. His aura pulsed dangerously, as if reaching out and touching every single person there, taking stock of their strengths and weaknesses, of who could beat who and calculating whom he might have to fight afterwards. It was like he could see right through Ty Lee’s aura and read every single one of her thoughts – nothing was hidden, nothing was sacred.

There was a terrible pressure surrounding her – her knees actually buckled – and then the Avatar blinked and his gaze moved away from her and back to the fight. Ty Lee swayed, and in an instant knew that Azula would never have a chance, once the waterbender was defeated.

* * *

Mai was being unnaturally quiet, which unnerved Zuko nearly as much as everything he had seen in the swamp thus far. Although, he quickly amended, she was usually very quiet and not the type to chatter, unlike some of the other females he’d spent time with – but this stony silence was the kind that put his already nervous mind even farther on edge, and his mind was racing as he filled in her thoughts for himself.

The most logical answer – to him, anyway - was that she no longer wanted to travel with him – he’d practically forced her, after that episode in the water, to continue going with him, and to what end? He had innocently thought that there was safety in numbers, but Mai’s mind was beyond the swamp – did she think he would throw her in jail? Force her to return to the Fire Nation with him? Use her as bait to capture Azula? If their positions had been reversed, there was no way Zuko would have wanted to be within a mile of her, let alone forced to travel with her.

“Look, Mai,” he said in a low tone, talking to her out of the corner of his mouth and rushing the words, slightly embarrassed to be saying them. “I understand if you want to split up, if you don’t want to be around me,”

He stopped himself when he got a good look at her face – she was just looking at him, blankly. There was no hidden anger in her expression, only mild puzzlement, as if she couldn’t quite comprehend where he was going with this.

Zuko realized that he’d made up all the signs of Mai’s anger in his own head – and that, if she decided suddenly that she no longer wanted to travel with him she wouldn’t follow him along passively and wait for her opportunity to escape; she’d wait until his back was turned and simply kill him and be on her way. She _was_ armed, after all.

The swamp was still messing with his head, after all. They might have found physical safety in numbers, but the swamp’s ability to magnify his doubts and plant thoughts in his head remained as strong as ever. If he had succeeded in pushing Mai away – if she had reacted to him in anger instead of calmness – what would have happened to him, once they’d split up?

His eyes met hers, still a picture of bemusement. “We need to get out of here,” he said flatly.

Mai nodded in agreement and made to move around him. He caught her wrist just as she moved out of arm’s reach, and she turned around to look at him.

“When we get out of here, I’ll continue on to the Fire Nation. Alone,” he said firmly.

Even if Mai held no anger towards him, there still had to be some doubt in her mind as to her fate when she finally got out of the swamp. He wanted to reassure her, in some way, that he wouldn’t take advantage of the very loose partnership they’d been forced to establish when they’d gotten lost together.

She said nothing for a moment, her eyes burning into his as if waiting for him to finish – as if getting out of the swamp was such an unreachable, unfathomable goal that even mentioning plans outside of it was like telling some sort of fairy tale, and she was waiting for the ending.

Then her eyes dropped down to the ground – a noticeable tension lifted from Zuko’s shoulders – and she slipped a small, almost unnoticeable smile. “I’ll continue north like I was planning.”

Zuko did not miss the fact that she hadn’t said anything about Ty Lee and Azula, but did not want to press her. “Let’s go.”

Slowly, Zuko noticed a change in the swamp – the trees were not crowded so closely together and were growing thicker around the trunks. Water was taking up more of the area, with much of the trees’ branches and roots the only available dry passage. He moved with extreme caution, having absolutely no desire to soak himself yet again. Mai was giving the water suspicious, furtive glances out of the corner of her eye and Zuko resisted the urge to take an extra step forward and take her arm to steady her. She’d probably break his fingers off.

Suddenly in front of him Mai stiffened and cocked her head, listening carefully. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking at her curiously.

“Don’t you hear-?” she cut herself off, taking a tentative step forward.

“Hear what?” he asked, echoing her movements and tilting his head forward.

She put up a finger to shush him, and just as she did so the stagnant water to his left shifted, as if it had suddenly found an outlet and developed a current. Zuko watched dumbly as it rushed away, following the shoreline until it disappeared through a tangle of branches and roots.

“Uhh…” he reached out to tap Mai’s shoulder and point out the rushing water, which she had either not noticed or was ignoring, but before he could touch her she took off, lightly running over the wet wood and soggy vines.

“Hey!” he called out, taking off, arms out as he tried to keep his balance and prevent himself from falling.

He caught up with her easily, pulling up behind her and reaching out and shoving her hard in the shoulder. “What are you doing?” Zuko nearly shouted when she slowed long enough to catch her balance.

“Don’t you hear that? _Listen_,” she snarled, gesturing an arm impatiently in the direction they were running towards.

“Hear-“ he cut himself off as the sound reached his ears; it was one he was so used to hearing that it rarely registered with him anymore.

It was the roar of fire being thrown, crackling through the air and hitting its target. However, there were only two other firebenders in the swamp besides himself, and the Avatar was notorious for falling upon his firebending only as a last resort.

“Azula,” he growled, picking up speed and leaving Mai behind. He broke through the brush easily, skidding to a stop when he reached the clearing and promptly slid across ice.

There, in the center of the swamp, his sister had found Katara – Zuko had actually forgotten that she was there in the swamp as well, and for a moment felt a rush of guilt – and the two were currently locked in a deathly struggle. Neither one seemed to be able to gain the upper hand – Azula’s face was flushed and sweat dripped down her forehead, but Katara was clearly distracted and wasn’t focusing entirely on the fight.

For a second he could only watch as the two exchanged blows before he was prompted to action. Azula sent a blue flame towards Katara, but before she could dodge it Zuko stepped confidently in front of the waterbender and easily absorbed the fire.

“Aren’t I the one you’re looking for, Azula?” he challenged.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dramatis Personae - Characters of the Play


	13. Casus Belli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumi starts to move, Mai and Zuko reach the center of the swamp, and Aang gets some answers

Bumi considered himself a man of few faults. Surely, he would not have been selected as the king of Omashu if he’d had many inherent personality flaws. He was kind and he was fair and he was good to the people who were under his care and an all-around decent human being – sure, there were many who considered his inability to resist a good joke a fault; Bumi considered it a talent, and really, it was simply a mark of his considerate nature that he would go out of his way to make others worry about silly, petty little things while he himself took on the burden of the serious decision and the big picture.

There was one thing, however, that Bumi had struggled with since he was a young boy, a problem that plagued most earthbenders – he simply could not stand to be wrong. This meant that he did not make a single decision lightly, whether it was where to establish trade routes or which of his servants to mess with that morning. Careful consideration of both sides of an issue and all possible consequences very rarely led Bumi down the wrong path, and he was one of the most fabulously successful kings in Omashu’s history simply for his ability to weigh both sides of an issue: a rare thing in an earthbender, who could be known for acting on stubborn impulses.

But now it was looking like Bumi had made the wrong choice in one of the most important decisions he had ever made as the ruler of Omashu. Was it possible that the young Bao was truly that treacherous? That he could betray Bumi and his country? How could he fool Bumi, moving around right under his very nose?

Although, Bumi thought, interrupting this dramatic train of thought, clearly he’d been _somewhat_ suspicious if he’d felt the need to go through the things Bao had left behind in the first place. No wonder Bao was always scolding him for being too curious – there was a treasure trove of treasonous material laid out right in front of him that he’d always overlooked, always trusting Bao and the way he ran his business.

Bumi decided to overlook the fact that it wasn’t laid right out as much as it was locked up right in a desk drawer that he’d had to pick the lock on.

Either way, Bao had once again forced Bumi to abandon his familiar stance of Neutral Jing and take some actual action.

With a sigh he stomped his foot and opened up the wall, entering the room where the Earth King himself was eating lunch with his pet bear.

“Afternoon son,” Bumi greeted, giving him a small wave. The Earth King frowned at him. “And Bosco,” Bumi hastily added, nodding at the bear. “I came to inform you that I’m returning to Omashu at once.”

The king’s head snapped up from the adoring gaze that had been aimed at Bosco. “What? You’re leaving?”

“I have to!” Bumi exclaimed. “I’ve left Omashu to itself long enough – and the way things are going, I’d like to get some of our defenses in order-“

“You can’t think it will come to that!” the king exclaimed, his eyes going wide.

“No, no, no!” Bumi rushed to reassure him. “But our defenses are not nearly as sophisticated as Ba Sing Se’s-“ a gaze out the window showed him one of the walls out on the horizon – “And I won’t have my city occupied by any forces that are not my own ever again.” Neither Fire Nation nor fellow Earth Kingdom forces would take his city right from under him.

“Do you want a guard?” asked the king, properly pacified and returning his attention back to his meal and his pet.

“No, thank you. I shall just return with the unit I brought with me.”

“Your heir has already left the city?” the slant of his eyebrow indicated that the past was a long time ago, and now the Earth King did not miss a single thing of importance in his own city. Bumi mentally cursed Pakku.

“I’ve sent him ahead of me to Omashu, but I don’t want to leave too many decisions to him-“

“Afraid your own heir will usurp you, King Bumi?” There was an amused tone to his voice but Bumi felt his spirit darken at his words.

“I may live forever just to spite him,” Bumi announced regally before turning from the room.

* * *

Mai swayed where she stood, shocked to her core by the scene in front of her: Zuko, standing between Azula and the waterbender, openly challenging his sister. Azula, her eyes wild, simultaneously looking exhausted and as if she were on the most extraordinary high, as if she had never imagined having both Zuko and the waterbender right there in front of her for the taking. The waterbender looked pale and anxious, her attention neither on Azula nor Zuko but up in the trees as if searching for something.

“Aren’t I the one you’re looking for, Azula?” Zuko sneered, and Mai felt a strange pit grow in her stomach as she watched the two of them.

She had followed Azula to this point, as she had always done, and she had been planning on helping Azula accomplish her goals, as she had always done, but she had never planned on being stuck with Zuko, and actually talking to him; this was not a fight she wanted to be involved in or even witness. Who could she pull for? Who should she want to win? Who would she follow when it was all over? Her future was unsure no matter who came through the battle and got them out of the swamp.

Before she could contemplate this train of thought further, a solid mass slammed into her, nearly knocking her off her feet. It took her a long moment of panic to realize that the arms wrapped around her actually belonged to Ty Lee, though her greeting wasn’t only enthusiastic happiness; Ty Lee was trying to pull her aside, out of sight.

“You’re okay!” Mai exclaimed, but Ty Lee ignored her, tightening her grip and pulling harder.

“Come over here, get behind the tree, get down,” she hissed, her eyes wide with panic and the heat of her palm so warm against Mai’s back it was as if the acrobat was branding her.

“What’s going on? _Are_ you okay?” They were hidden from view behind a tree trunk – and knee deep in water, Mai noted with distaste – but she could still hear the sound of fire and of Zuko and Azula calling out behind her.

“We’re okay right now,” Ty Lee answered, her eyes straying to the trees above them, like the waterbender. Mai’s eyes instinctively followed hers, but she could spy nothing in the thick canopy above them. “What were you doing with Zuko?’

“I got stuck with him when Azula first found him. When we got split up.” Mai turned and tried to crane her head around the tree, but Ty Lee grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her down again.

“Stay out of sight,” Ty Lee hissed.

“What are you doing?” Mai snapped, “We need to help-“

“Help who, Mai?” Ty Lee asked, her eyes narrowing. Noting the way Mai’s cheek’s reddened, she looked away. “It doesn’t matter which one of them wins anyway.”

“Of course it matters!” Mai was trying her best not to get flustered and lower herself to Ty Lee’s level of panic, but the sounds of battle behind her combined with Ty Lee’s behavior and the intense darkness of the center of the swamp were driving into her very heart, causing the pit in her stomach to erupt and engulf her chest and arms and head. Fighting sudden dizziness, she clutched Ty Lee’s shoulders, fighting the urge to shake her. “It matters! No matter who wins, we have to help. We can’t-“

“It doesn’t matter, because no matter who wins _we still have to get out of the swamp_, Mai.” Ty Lee shook her head, her hands clutching Mai’s forearms at her shoulders. “And we won’t. We’ll never get out. He’ll never let us.”

Mai blinked dumbly. “But he said – Zuko won’t –“ Zuko had _promised_ her.

Ty Lee’s confused look mirrored her own, but then realization dawned and she let out an uncharacteristically harsh laugh. “I’m not talking about _Zuko_. This goes way beyond Zuko, Mai. Look up into the trees. Do you see him?”

Mai instantly looked up again.

“He sees us, Mai.”

“What are you-“ She cut herself off when she saw it; a pair of eyes gleaming in the darkness of the branches. Her heart actually skipped a beat and heaviness settled over her, as if she could barely move her limbs even with effort. Dragging her eyes back to Ty Lee’s, she choked, “What is that? What’s going on?”

“It’s the Avatar,” Ty Lee whispered softly, failing to keep the horror out of her voice.

“What is he-“ Before Mai could get the question out, the ground rippled dangerously underneath her. Ty Lee fell to the side, splashing though the water in an attempt to keep her balance.

Ty Lee’s eyes were wide as she stumbled. The ground rippled again, and this time Mai fell as well, losing her grip on the tree trunk and landing on all fours in the water. When she looked up, she realized that the ground had risen in front of her, and standing at the crest of it was the blind earthbender. Behind her, Ty Lee let out an almost silly sounding squeak in surprise.

“Toph!” A moment later another figure joined her; Mai blinked before she remembered the waterbender’s brother. For a moment she could only kneel there and stare at the two of them, even as the knives in her holsters slid up to her fingertips, ready for action. Oddly, neither one of them seemed to notice Mai there, looking behind her at Ty Lee.

Sokka put a hand on Toph’s shoulder; at the same time Ty Lee cried out, “No wait!” Then the earthbender slammed a foot down on the ground, and the earth rose like a wave of water and tried to engulf her.

* * *

She felt it, the moment Aang had changed. Aang and Katara had just entered the very edge of her vision – she had been leading Sokka towards them to meet up, and thanking the spirits that they appeared to be okay – when Aang had propelled himself off the ground. Then all she had seen with Katara was a giant black spot, a hole in her vision, something that took in everything but gave nothing out.

It also coincided with the sudden disappearance of the quiet, menacing voice that had been speaking to her. It unnerved her almost as much as when it _had_ been speaking to her; like a rock, she had been worn down and had become almost accustomed to its presence. The fact that all she heard was emptiness seemed ominous; as if its attention had been stolen by something more important, more dangerous.

When Azula and Ty Lee had found the pair at the center of the swamp, she’d picked up her pace, trying to ignore both her apparent eagerness to face Ty Lee and how her stomach had bottomed out when she had realized that Azula had attacked Katara and that Aang wasn’t helping her.

Toph had tried her best not to let Sokka notice her distress, but he must have noticed something when she’d seen Azula, because he had also picked up his pace, his long legs easily pacing hers. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She had bit her lip. Toph hated lying to him, but she hated letting him worry about her even more. “I think I found Aang and Katara,” she’d said hesitantly, as honest as she could bring herself to be at the moment.

But when Zuko had appeared at the center of the swamp with them, she’d broken into a full out run, both grateful to see him and cursing him for getting them mixed up in this mess. Sokka had let out a yelp at suddenly being left behind, but had caught up with her within seconds. “What is it?” he’d urged. “Are they in trouble?”

“I think so,” she had ground out between gritted teeth, finally giving up in frustration and calling up the ground beneath her to spur her on faster.

Sokka had fallen behind – just barely, as she could still see him behind her – so she had been by herself when she had first pulled up to find Ty Lee and her friend Mai cowering behind a tree trunk in front of her.

For a moment she had felt triumphant, every cell in her body crying out for a fight and to help her friends. Then Sokka had arrived behind her, and she had felt the uncertainty rolling off of him in waves with his unsteady heartbeat, which had, in a way, just angered her even more. He’d put a strong hand on her shoulder, and Ty Lee, sensing her intentions, straightened and put out a hand – “No, wait!” - but Toph couldn’t wait a second longer and slammed a foot down, uprooting the ground beneath them and nearly sending the pair flying.

“Toph!” Sokka exclaimed. “What are you do-“ Before he could finish his question there was a whistling through the air; Sokka dodged and flung his machete out and was just barely grazed by one of Mai’s stilettos.

“Hey!” For a moment, all he could do was look down in shock at his chest where a streak was blooming purple on blue cloth, but then Mai let two more knives fly towards him and he ducked and rolled away.

“Wait!” Ty Lee was getting up, making another attempt to stop them, but Toph let out a growl and called the earth up again, the water draining away as she raised it up and made another attempt to knock the acrobat off balance.

Above her she could hear the sounds of branches creaking and leaves rustling; someone was moving above her, and though she couldn’t see who it was she knew by the pit in her stomach that Aang was close. Katara had managed to disentangle herself from Zuko’s battle and was on the other side of the center, in a defensive position and clearly looking for the Avatar.

In front of her, Ty Lee flipped and attempted to come at her from above; Toph, unable to see her exact position, draw up an entire shield of rock to block herself from Ty Lee’s hit. The hit still managed to crack the rock – Ty Lee gave a wicked howl of pain – and Toph felt dust and pebbles hit her face before she dropped the shield and pulled the ground directly from under Ty Lee’s feet.

Ty Lee stumbled once again, but before Toph could make another move something struck her in the back of her head. Grabbing behind her – she hadn’t seen anything coming – she felt the smooth hilt of one of Mai’s knives, lodged sideways in the large bun of her dark, thick hair. Behind her, she could hear Sokka calling her name while struggling against Mai.

“I’m _fine_,” she snapped, yanking the knife of her hair and trying to ignore the chunks that came out with it. Ty Lee was still sunk up to her knees in front of her, and Toph took advantage of the moment to twist her foot and sink her even further, almost to her naval.

Before she could make another action, however, she realized that something warm was trickling down her neck and that her scalp stung. Her hands went back into her hair, searching for the wound and to check for damage –

“_A superficial wound only, Lady Bei Fong_.”

Toph froze, disbelieving. It was back.

“_It’s of no matter to me. I’ve come to collect_-“

“No!”

She’d gotten distracted. Once she heard the voice again she’d forgotten, for the first time in her entire life, that she was in the middle of a fight. She completely missed Ty Lee pulling herself out of the muck; all Toph felt, before she stumbled to the side, disoriented, was the blow on her forearm and the blow at the base of her neck.

“_A life for a life, Toph_.”

* * *

The hem of her robes had caught fire; she didn’t notice until her husband stepped on them to put them out and she tripped. His strong arms caught her, and she looked back at him, nearly gasping in shock at the orange light that shone bright across his face as they fled in the night. He was glowing like a holy demon, and suddenly his face shifted from the familiar comfort of her own husband’s to that of one that she frequently saw in dreams – that of the Fire Lord, his eyes narrowed menacingly and smoke curling behind him.

She reacted in outrage instead of fear, however, and though her arms were not very strong she balled a fist and hit him as hard as she could in his scarred eye. He howled like she had stabbed him and let go of her, dropping her down onto the hard packed earth.

“It’s all your fault!” she cried.

His hands reached down again and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her hard and calling her name –

“Song!”

With a gasp of air she sat bolt upright, nearly knocking heads with her husband, who was leaning concernedly over her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “You were crying out-” he reached a cautious hand out towards her. “And you’re awfully flushed.”

She rubbed her forehead roughly, wiping the cold sweat from her brow. “I’m okay – it’s just, after last night -”

The night before the Fire Nation had raided their quiet little village. For the third time in her life she’d been forced to leave her home and look to start over once again. Her husband had roused her from a sound sleep and told her that he could see smoke rising over the trees – and not minutes later an explosion had ripped through the village so strong it had rocked their little house right to its core.

It had been a dry summer, and once the trees caught the fire had spread quickly. It was utter pandemonium – Song had spent a long night moving elderly and herding children and treating wounded soldiers while her husband had worked with the other men to create a firebreak in the forest to prevent it from spreading any further.

It was all disturbingly familiar to her – the chaos, the confusion, the crying children, the warm wind blowing in her face, the men leaving – all things she had suffered through once as a child and again as a teenager when the Fire Nation had raided during their final war efforts. She’d lost her father the first time, her mother the second, and she was sure to her soul that she would never see her husband again, losing yet another precious person to the Fire Nation. When he’d limped into their little refugee camp with the other men right before dawn she had thought that she had fallen asleep and was dreaming out of worry for him.

He’d quietly explained what happened before they fell into a restless sleep: the Fire Nation had raided a confidential storehouse before settling it alight. Civilians hadn’t known of its existence, which meant that only Lord Zuko himself could have passed the knowledge of it’s location down to his military leader in order to orchestrate the attack.

“He’s already taken the Avatar,” her husband breathed. “And now he’s trying to cripple the Earth Kingdom and start the war effort all over again.”

And now, trying to help neighbors pick through the remains of their homes, Song cursed Lord Zuko and everything he stood for.

When she’d first met him she’d had some optimism – though he was clearly suspicious, he was polite enough when forced to be and his uncle cut an almost jovial figure for a refugee. It wasn’t until after the theft of their ostrich horse and the subsequent trek into town did she see the wanted posters and understand his true nature; the only thing that Fire Lord Ozai was good for was disruption and deception, and his only son had inherited these traits in spades.

When Zuko had taken the throne she was one of the few who didn’t celebrate, having been given a private glimpse of the person he truly was. He had promised peace; he had promised to end the fighting; he had promised to make his evil father’s name forgotten.

What had it brought them? The Avatar missing, again. The Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation at odds, again. A night spent fleeing fire and smoke, again.

Song had lived in the north, in the west, and now in the south. She had lived off the busy trade routes and in an isolated village. She had lived both by the sea and far inland; every time, war had come to her village.

And what could she do? She could pick up and move along. Again.

Her husband came up from behind her, wrapping his arm around hers and entwining their fingers. She leaned into him, grateful for his steady support, and looked up into his dark eyes.

“Want to head west?”

* * *

“So lifetimes ago in the land of the spirits dwelled not one but two deadly-“

“Excuse me,” Aang interrupted, far more politely than the situation probably called for. “But why are you _dancing_?”

The spirit that had entered the little clearing behind him stopped immediately and put a hand up to its chin, tapping it thoughtfully. “He likes it when I dance when I tell stories. Paints-” its arms were flung out wide, waving like a breeze, “-a physical-“ he dropped to one knee and spun around, coming up on the other, “-picture!” it finished with a flourish.

Aang blinked, then rolled his eyes and resumed his examination of the barrier of trees around the edge of the clearing. The Spirit World frequently inspired this sense of irritation in him. “I’d love to hang around here while you say more things that don’t make sense, but I really need to get out of here and get back to my body and Katara.”

“The waterbender!” The bright colors of the spirit’s face lit up even more at the mention of Katara.

Aang narrowed his eyes. “My betrothed.”

The spirit waved a scolding finger and raised an eyebrow. “When the king is away, any peasant may with his rich things play.”

Aang grimaced. “That was terrible.”

It’s shoulder’s slumped, wide mouth dropping into an almost comical grin. Even the bells dangling from its head seemed to hang limply. If Aang had looked closer, he might have even seen a single tear of grief rolling down its cheek. “I really am more of a physical actor.” It said, grudgingly.

With a frustrated sigh Aang turned away again, tilting his head up towards the sky. The orange had faded into a dark purple, no stars shining though a white light was emanating clearly from the moon. Aang blinked in surprise and stifled a gasp – curled up within the light was Yue herself, her face emotionless, her eyes focused downwards on the earth below her. Aang thought he might feel some comfort if she looked and saw him – but her gaze remained steady, clearly focused on something else that was happening in front of her.

There was a loud crash beside him. The spirit had started singing and dancing again and ran into the throne in the center of the clearing, making it rock dangerously on its base. “Why are you here?” Aang asked wearily.

“I’m here to introduce myself to my new master,” it said, confused at Aang’s ignorance of the subject.

“I am not your master. You do not belong to me.”

“My lord! Everything in this clearing belongs to you. You wouldn’t be here if it didn’t. The spirit was shocked, scandalized at Aang’s words. “This is your place! You created it!”

“I did not!” Aang snapped back, looking around at his surroundings again. He was pretty sure he’d never been here before – although, that garish throne was ringing a bell, but he’d probably seen something similar in Bumi’s quarters-

“You did! Of course, I wasn’t really around then, though to hear him tell it, you were a firebender then.” It peeked over the back of the throne at Aang, eyeing him suggestively. “And female.”

Aang rubbed his eyes. “You mean a past life.” Naturally. Something he personally could not have been involved in at all.

“It’s still you.” It shrugged, like it should have been obvious. “Anyway, you created this place yourself, back when you were that female firebender, what was your name, god knows he’s mentioned it enough times but I’m just so terrible with words-“

“Because you’re really more of a physical actor-“ Aang supplied in monotone, trying to ignore the headache that was starting to build behind his eyes.

“-Right! But you created this place and imprisoned him here a long time ago.” It cut itself off, apparently satisfied with the information provided.

Aang waited patiently for a moment before flinging his arms out. “_And_?”

“And what? You created this place and now you’re here and it belongs to you. He is probably very pleased with himself right now.” At this point it was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of Aang, like a child waiting for a bedtime story.

“I did a lot of things a long time ago!” Aang cried in frustration. “I don’t remember _any_ of them!”

“Ah!” It rolled backwards into a handstand and then onto its feet, its arms up triumphantly. “Well, he’s always had a connection with the earth, in a weird way. He could get into people’s heads and see their doubts and magnify them and make them worse. He could influence people and make them do things. And you, obviously, had some, ah, issues, with a spirit controlling people in the real world from the domain of spirits.”

At Aang’s stony glance, it quickly trained its eyes down and added a hesitant, “My lord.”

“And that’s why he’s taken my body? To settle some old grudge against me?” Aang asked, watching as the spirit started leaping gracefully around him.

“Actually!” It popped up, directly in front of him, one finger in the air to make a point. Aang gave a yelp of surprise and fell backwards, the spirit towering over him. “You were kinda like… a…” His fingers waved impatiently through the air as he thought. “A back-up plan!”

“A _what_?!”

“Well you see, he’s always been attracted to court life.” It scratched the back of its head, the bells jangling annoyingly, then shot out an arm towards the center. “That’s why you left that throne!’

“That ugly thing?” Aang craned his head backwards to look at the horrible throne shining dully in the moonlight.

“Yes! You left it for him! You see,” it leaned down conspiratorially, getting very close to Aang’s face, “it wasn’t so much the influencing the real people from the spirit world that bothered you; it was the influencing the kings and other leaders from the spirit world that really upset you. That’s why you confronted him.”

“But!” it exclaimed, jumping away from Aang again and falling into a waltz with an invisible partner, “everything in the swamp is connected, right? You learned that lesson, right?”

“I’m the Avatar,” Aang said flatly. “Everything is connected to _me_.”

“Right!” the spirit sang, pleased with Aang’s progress. “We saw you! You were adorable.” Aang’s eyes narrowed again, and it hastened to add, “But you’ve grown to become very manly, my liege.”

Aang sat up, arms crossed. “What does this have to do with him knocking me out of my body?”

“Well you see, not just everything in the swamp is connected! _Everything_ is connected to _everything_!” it cried joyfully. “And since he couldn’t connect directly to people, he could connect into the swamp and branch out from there.” Its arms and one leg was out, apparently miming the action of ‘branching out.’ “But then the waterbenders moved into the swamp, and he could connect to them through it, and from there he could branch out, and find other people - and since he so loved court life, the first and best mind that he found was that of-“

“Zuko,” Aang interrupted, suddenly remembering Zuko coming to his bedchamber, still in his nightclothes and in a cold sweat, clutching the parchment and going on about his sick uncle. “He drew Zuko here and I-“

“You were right behind him!” It beamed happily at Aang. “And I’m very pleased to see you. You are far better than he is – of course, we’ve only had a very short time together thus far and you could turn out to be very cruel-“

“Hey!” Aang cried indignantly.

“But at least you don’t have anyone running around, spitting and growling and destroying perfectly nice furniture-“ it went on, talking over Aang and gesturing towards the chair and the claw marks in the arm. “And I think, and I know you shouldn’t say unkind things about those who aren’t here, because they cannot defend themselves, that all that fire made him a little nervous, after all that fighting he did with you-“

“For not being very good with words, you sure have a lot of them,” Aang muttered, pushing himself off the ground and ignoring how unnerving it was to be unable to do so without airbending.

The spirit clutched its chest. “The first signs of cruelty arise! Ai, my lord! What have I done to offend?” It dropped to its knees and hobbled towards Aang, who suddenly found that he had developed a twitch in his right eye.

Aang just glared, and the spirit flopped onto it’s back, panting slightly. “Of course, if you’d rather not spend eternity as my master, you could always get out of here and go get your body back.”

“How?!” Aang exploded. “Tell me how!”

The spirit shrugged. “No idea. But you’d better do it before he gets out of the swamp. Because then, you know, he’s going back to the courts and then suddenly he’s the Avatar and people will treat him like he is and his ego is just going-“

“You’re no help at all, you know that?” Aang groaned in annoyance, pacing furiously through the clearing, following the tracks that had already been made.

He was trapped in a place of his own making and he couldn’t get out. He had been forced out of his own body and had lost his bending ability. He was stuck with a chattering nitwit who was completely useless.

Collapsing onto the throne – which was just as uncomfortable as it looked – Aang groaned and dropped his head into his hands. Not even in those darkest days before he had faced the Fire Lord had things ever seemed so hopeless before – and it was all his fault. For the first time in his life he wished he had access to the memories of his previous lives, to see how he had faced this spirit before or what could be done – though there was a certain, terrifying fear growing inside of him that there _was_ nothing he could do. He had done this to himself.

_   
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* * *

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casus Belli - Justifying War


	14. Dies Irae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go badly for Cai, Azula's on a little bit of a high, and Katara attempts to face a possessed Aang.

Sokka had always prided himself on being a man of science; until Aang had crashed into his life he’d always been of the firm belief that everything had a rational, logical explanation. Once Aang had destroyed that theory, everything was then neatly categorized under either “firm, rational logic” or “freaky spirit stuff.”

What he had come across fit into neither one of these categories, and that was the fact that Mai simply had an endless supply of knives. Sokka had no idea how she could travel that heavily armed and still lift her limbs, or how she moved so quickly, or _exactly where all those things were coming from_.

Two more stilettos grazed his arm as he wheeled around and used the blunt edge of his machete to deflect them, and a third one whistled by his wrist as he reached out to catch his returning boomerang. Rolling behind a tree trunk and flinging the boomerang out again, he let out an irritated grunt and wiped beads of sweat from his forehead as he heard the soft thunk of a knife embedding itself into the wood beside his head.

It was _unnatural_, that’s what it was.

The air of the swamp was always stagnant and thick, but the added stench of smoke was making it even harder to breathe, and splashing in knee-deep water made nimble, efficient movements impossible. Catching his boomerang – he’d heard a clank and a yelp as it had hit one of Mai’s arms – he looked around frantically, searching for a way to end this fight as quickly as possible.

What he saw did not encourage him. To his right, Azula and Zuko were caught up in their fight; he could hear Azula calling something to Zuko, but he merely grimaced in response and returned her blast. To his left he could see flashes of red and blue; Katara did not appear to be fighting anyone – Sokka momentarily thought about calling for help, but then he noticed that she was in a defensive stance, water baubles at her hands, and covered from shoulders to knees in blood. His heart stopped dead in his chest, and he staggered forward to go to her – she hadn’t even noticed he was there yet – but then another knife flew in and landed squarely in his thigh, embedding itself.

“Yeeow!” He stumbled, struggling to keep his balance and keep weight off of his injured leg. He turned his head and glared at Mai, gritting his teeth and pulling out the knife. Warm blood ran down his leg, but he ignored it as he cocked an arm and threw the knife right back at her. She dodged it easily, but before she could respond the ground rattled beneath them and they both lost their balance.

Two ragged screams tore through the air, and both Mai and Sokka instantly forgot about the other in favor of Ty Lee and Toph. They both turned to go to them, but then there was the roar of flame and heat at his back and when he’d limped as fast as his protesting leg would carry him to where Ty Lee lay on the ground, Mai was no longer with him.

“What’s going on? Where’s Toph?” He had to shout over the din around him, and he had to crane his head to hear the response from an ashen-faced Ty Lee.

“I just – I just hit her! I don’t know what happened!” She gestured uselessly at the tangle of vines in front of her.

“Toph’s in there?!” Sokka exclaimed incredulously. He rocked forward and hesitated, waiting for Toph to get herself out, but nothing happened and what Ty Lee said filtered through –

“_You disabled her bending_?!”

“She was trying to bury me alive!” Ty Lee shot back defensively.

Sokka didn’t hear her, however, because he had taken off towards the writhing bundle of vines, machete out, ready to cut through the entire swamp if it meant getting to Toph.

A moment later he felt someone next to him and looked to see Ty Lee pulling at the vines as well.

“What are you doing? Get away before you get hurt!” Sokka shouted and brought his machete down with a particularly satisfying snapping sound. Ty Lee merely grimaced and yanked harder on the vines, trying to pull them away from Toph.

It appeared to be a futile effort; they simply slithered around Sokka’s arms even as he cut through them; when he finally got a glimpse of Toph underneath, her face deathly pale and her eyes closed, he let out a cry of alarm and redoubled his efforts.

The vines weren’t just attacking Toph; two cords were wrapped firmly around her neck and pulling tighter with every moment. They were actually trying to kill her, right in front of him.

* * *

After a day and a half of traveling with Jun, Cai had come to a very important realization.

‘_People in the Earth Kingdom are completely insane. It’s no wonder that Lord Zuko was so uncertain about coming here_.’

Jun’s shirshu jumped over a small hill, and he let out a little yelp and tightened his grip on Jun’s waist.

‘_And no wonder General Iroh loves it_.’

He’d woken up slung over the animal’s back with a raging headache and without Delun. When he’d finally gotten Jun’s attention, all she’d done was hold up a single card: the Queen of Water.

“I told you I’d take your bounty if your card was higher than mine. The Queen beats the Jester, so we’re following the former princess’ scent and heading south, quickly. Delun has been sent back to your ship – this is a two person job.”

There were many questions in Cai’s mind – such as why, exactly, he should trust her, and where, exactly, where they going, and how, exactly, were they supposed to arrest Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee with only two people, and by the way, was she planning on drugging him again? But she was the sort who didn’t lend herself to answering questions, and he was the sort who didn’t find being jostled though the Earth Kingdom countryside on the back of a mutant ant eater the type of atmosphere conducive to asking such questions, so Cai shut up and just held on for all he was worth.

“There are some military holdings down here,” Jun explained to him, when the shirshu stopped once, pausing to sniff the hairpiece and search for the trail. “It makes sense that she’s passed through here, to keep an ear open for news from the Fire Nation.” She glanced back at him, and then promptly performed a double take. “Are you always that shade of green?”

Cai just groaned and closed his eyes. He’d never suffered from seasickness, but a straight night trying to stay on the shirshu had upset his stomach. Therefore, he was incredibly grateful to be able to call a halt when they came across a recently scorched field – so recent that the ground still smoldered and a cloud of smoke hung heavily over them.

“Are we-“ he stepped carefully through the tall grass, “are we near a military holding?”

“How should I know?” Jun answered cheerfully, just as another voice rang out across the clearing.

“A weapons storehouse. Confidential. Not civilian information.” A man stood at the other end of the clearing, wearing the domed hat that marked him as an earthbender and the dark green uniform of the Earth Kingdom officials. “Happened the night before last. The perpetrators set fire to it before fleeing, and the wind and dry wood spread it over to the nearby village. The entire area was destroyed.”

Cai closed his eyes and murmured an oath. So Azula had passed through the area – but would she really raid a village with the Fire Lord in her clutches? It seemed risky. Out of character. She must have been desperate to commit such an act.

“Tell me,” the earthbender stepped closer, “is your fleet nearby?”

Cai scratched the back of his head. “No, they’re much farther north. It’s going to make it a pain to transport the criminals, but-“

Cai cut himself off when the man took him firmly by the wrists and clamped a pair of rock handcuffs upon them.

“What is this?”

“We’ve been looking for the firebenders who caused this chaos, and if we arrest one of them then the rest will come forward.” The man leaned closer to Cai, who was still staring dumbly down at his hands. “Are you their leader?”

“What? You’re arresting me?” His voice rose a bit in pitch.

“For crimes against the Earth Kingdom. I’ll return you to the city of Omashu to face punishment for your crimes-“

“Wait a minute, wait a minute! Who are you? What’s going on?” Cai looked desperately to Jun for an explanation or an alibi. “I wasn’t even here the night before last! I was looking for _you_, wasn’t I?” He asked, pointing a shaking finger at the bounty hunter.

Jun yawned. “So can I collect the bounty on this guy or what?”

“Hey!” Cai shouted in outrage, shocked that someone General Iroh had trusted so implicitly could be so… _untrustworthy_.

“Yes.” The earthbender gave her a mark. “You’ll have to return to Omashu to do it, but you’ll be paid in full. Tell them Bumi’s heir sent you.”

“Right.” And with no parting glance at Cai, she and her giant animal left, leaving Cai standing in the middle of a destroyed forest, wondering where he was and how the hell he’d gotten there.

* * *

It was, quite frankly, the best day of Azula’s life. For the first time, she could imagine how the airbender felt flying through the sky: she felt elated; a kind of strange, thrilling hyperawareness that took over her senses, made her nerves sing. She’d never been so in tune with her limbs, and every move came from pure reflex. Everything was natural, loose, and fluid, as if this had all been preordained and she was just now taking up her proper role in it.

Of course, all this was ignoring the burning in her chest as she drew ragged breaths, and the stinging in her eyes from sweat running into them, but those things weren’t important. This was it; this was everything she had waited for, and there was no going back for her now.

Her brother, by contrast, was grim-faced as they traded blows. His brow was drawn low and his mouth turned down, as if he were concentrating hard just to keep up with her. Though neither was gaining the upper hand, Azula had never felt more confident in her ability to beat Zuko.

It had never been questioned; not even when they were children. She had gained her father’s favor at an early age, and she had surpassed Zuko’s skill level by the time she was seven despite the fact that he was two years ahead of her. Part of Zuko had understood it, even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it; they never consulted each other when learning firebending. One was not to be an asset to the other, but a competitor; someone to be measured up against and watched closely.

Once, just once, they had sparred as children – though if she asked Zuko, he might refer to it as a brawl. Cousin Lu Ten had taken pity on the boy and taken time out of his schedule to show Zuko a few forms – forms that Azula had mastered already - and he was eager to show them off. He looked like a fool, jumping and kicking around the courtyard all by himself, and she couldn’t resist the urge to jump in and show him up.

“Zhao taught me these four months ago,” she sneered, wanting to upset him.

He frowned at her, and then snapped, mid turn, “Go away, Azula. I want to practice.”

She stopped instantly, dropping her arms to her sides and giving him a childish pout. “Doesn’t it bother you?” she demanded. “That I know more than you do? That I have my own private tutor?”

Zuko’s shoulders stiffened and Azula knew that she was close.

“I’m _always_ going to be better than you Zuko, no matter what you do.”

His head whipped around and his eyes narrowed, and she knew she had accomplished her goal. He halfheartedly threw a small flame at her, but she gave him a sunny grin and dropped into her favorite stance, taking in what he had sent at her and returning it ten-fold.

Instead of cowering like she had expected he mirrored her form and responded, his flame growing brighter and hotter; just a little.

Azula danced around him, taking joy in how easily she could overpower him, how frustrated she could make him, and soon his flames were burning as hot as hers and were thrown as seriously as she had thrown her first blow. Even when he was expending the most energy, she saw, she was still far stronger than he was.

They couldn’t have fought for too long, but those few minutes went down as some of the most precious in Azula’s memory; she had been validated, her place and position made certain to anyone who had witnessed the two siblings. Though Zuko had been born before Azula, she was bound to rise up above him.

The interruption in their fight came, to her surprise, in the form of her firebending teacher. Striding confidentially between the two, he yanked them apart – Azula far more gently than Zuko. “Stop this instant,” Zhao ordered coolly, as if he hadn’t literally walked into a firestorm.

The pair stopped. Zhao had that kind of command; even Azula listened to him on occasion. Zuko was panting, but Azula merely crossed her arms in annoyance.

“I was just showing him some forms!” she half-whined, waiting for him to give her the go-ahead to continue.

“If you want to practice with your brother, then you should do so under the supervision of an instructor,” he said calmly. Her mouth dropped at the rebuke, but then Zhao continued, “I imagine your parents would be upset if you accidentally harmed your brother.” His intense gaze shifted to Zuko, who had gone pale with outrage. “You still have to work on your defensive technique, Prince Zuko.” He bowed his head in concession. “If you’d like, I will speak to your tutor-“

“He doesn’t have one,” Azula interrupted loudly.

Zhao blinked in surprise, and Azula could have laughed out loud. Surely he knew that Zuko was just being trained with the regular recruits at the academy.

“Excuse me, Prince Zuko.” Zuko’s jaw was clenched something furious, and Azula found herself wondering with a kind of curious horror if he was going to start crying, right here in public in front of everyone, but after a moment he turned on heel and stalked away from the pair, Zhao’s hand still calmly and reassuringly on her shoulder.

It was different now, fighting Zuko. There was no sign of that unsure boy that she’d left behind, and though his face indicated that he didn’t take joy in firebending the way Azula did, his skills had improved. He was faster on his feet, and not so easily goaded.

“Pathetic,” she scorned, lightly stepping within his reach and easily dodging the flame that whooshed by.

He did not respond to her taunts. His eyes remained solemn, and he seemed focused entirely on the moves Azula was making – it was as if he didn’t hear her at all.

Azula’s grin widened. If there was one thing she was truly a master at, it was getting a rise out of her brother. She just hadn’t found the right button to push yet.

“When I take the throne-“ she started, but he rolled away from a blow and there was a roar and a shriek. To Azula’s shock, Zuko’s attention was stolen from her. He was looking concernedly over at Mai, who was nursing a burned arm where she’d thrown it over her face. Beyond her, Azula glimpsed someone in blue and another in the light green she herself was clad in; Ty Lee was fighting with someone as well.

Azula let out a low growl and pumped her arm, sending another flame towards Zuko. He just barely moved in time, his eyes straying back again, and Azula felt irritation rise. “Ignore her, Zuko.” She spun and moved in closer to him. “Your fight is with me.”

“Are you so heartless, Azula?” he spat at her, back to back as he rolled around and ducked her flame. “She’s _your_ friend.”

“And why would _you_ care about her?” Azula snapped right back. “She was going to Omashu with me to take you down.”

Zuko’s eyes widened and he scrambled too slowly to evade her next shot. It hit him squarely on the shoulder, and he stumbled back, his eyes wide. “You were going to Omashu for _me_?” he asked faintly.

Absolute delight rose up through Azula’s chest. She’d found her mark.

* * *

His prisoner had been quiet for some time, either out of rage or shock. Bao suspected it was the latter; the look of surprise on his face when Bao had slapped the cuffs on him had made his close call with the 21st infantry the other night completely worth the effort. And if turning Cai in at Omashu and making him stand trial for a crime against the Earth Kingdom forced them to expunge the Fire Nation from Bao’s lands once and for all – well, wasn’t that his goal? Everything he had silently worked towards under Bumi?

Bao frowned as he thought about the old earth king. Most likely, he would want to delay a trial: give Iroh a chance to explain, for diplomatic reasons; but there was a good chance Bao could press it forward anyway, using the dangerous political climate, the lack of a Fire Lord or Avatar, and the current public favor against the Fire Nation.

He shifted uncomfortably in his they had split up, leaving Jet with a cart filled with only a quarter of the munitions that they should have gotten (Bao mentally cursed Colonel Haru in his mind) Bao had taken the ostrich horse Jet had managed to secure and had started heading north. The base for the 17th infantry was located several miles from the burned storehouse, and even before Cai had fallen into his lap he had been planning on heading there and resting a bit under the guise of investigating the Fire Nation raid on the village.

With Cai arrested for the crime however, he could get the process rolling at the base, spreading word that he had caught a member of the group responsible for the raid on the weapons storehouse and adding fuel to the public fervor against the Fire Nation.

Behind him, he could hear Cai experimentally tugging at the binds, more out of curiosity than any actual attempt to escape. He heard a small intake of breath –

“Only an earthbender can remove them,” Bao threw over his shoulder, heading off the inevitable question at the pass.

“Mmm.”

They rode on in silence for a few more moments. There was another little intake of breath:

“No, I won’t loosen them. You’re lucky I don’t gag you so you don’t spew fire at me like your general. You think I don’t know why they call him dragon? But you firebenders, you don’t have the nerve to attack someone right out in the open anymore, no, now you have to be sneaky about it and attack a sleeping village unprepared in the middle of the night! You wouldn’t dare attack the heir of Omashu right in the middle of the day, would you?”

Silence. Bao humphed self-righteously and flicked the reigns, ordering the ostrich horse to pick up the pace a little bit. He really wanted to get to the base before nightfall, to secure backup and make sure everyone was aware of what had _actually_ happened – before people started muttering under the public outrage about how no one had heard from Jet for a while, and really, wasn’t he _also_ very fond of the blasting jelly?

Then he felt the firebender tense again, and this time a small “Uhh-“ came out before he lost his temper.

“You Fire Nation dogs have always just walked onto whatever land you wanted, taking what you wished and burning what you didn’t need!” This, of course, was completely ignoring the fact that _he_ was the one responsible for burning down the storehouse, but it was the general principle of the thing at this point. Bao wasn’t even talking about the most recent events – he was reaching back even farther, to the war and beyond, to his childhood and the terrible, awful, memories of trying to breathe through smoke and his father shoving him ahead and roaring lizards. These were words he would have loved to spew at Lord Zuko, if he ever had the chance.

“It never occurred to you to think about the lives you were destroying! The men you killed or the women you defiled or the children you left wandering alone! You took everything, our houses and our markets and our temples! Nothing was spared – and you are mistaken if you think I’m going to spare you now.” He could feel the heat from his face, but didn’t notice how his voice had raised. “I will be damned before I let the Fire Nation ruin the life of another citizen of the Earth Kingdom!”

He twisted in his seat to glare at the firebender behind him.

The man looked thoroughly bewildered. He opened his mouth, thought better of it, shut it, then opened it again, looked at Bao hesitantly, as if waiting for another outburst, and then finally took a breath.

“I… just wanted to go to the bathroom…” he mumbled helplessly.

* * *

Stars exploded behind her eyes as she hit the tree; Katara didn’t know what she was thinking, trying to fight the Avatar. She’d never been on the wrong side of his incredible power before – witnessed it, seen others try to fight it – and she’d always been so thankful that Aang was a passive soul. He was strong, and to see his hands use his skill for anything other than peacemaking or protecting was something she’d only faced in her worst nightmares.

But what other choice did she have? No one else knew what was going on, and she couldn’t let him get out of the swamp and wreak his havoc on the world. Groaning and trying to shake the fog from her head, she pulled herself up and reached out, looking to make that connection with the water that was readily available around her.

What terrified her most of all was the knowledge that his attention wasn’t even solely on her. He was merely batting her away as if she were some bug buzzing annoyingly around his face. Every time he knocked her aside he returned to what he seemed intent upon - tearing up the swamp from the roots, using a combination of waterbending and earthbending to pull water from the channels that led away from the center, as if he were searching –

Something clicked in Katara’s brain, but it was far too muddled for her to process. There was the dull roar and Katara looked up into a grayish green wave, towering above her head. She threw her arms up and spun, just barely in time to prevent getting hit with the giant wave, pulling the water around her instead of over her and using the momentum to push back towards Aang.

He was so wrapped up in his own task that for a half-second she thought that she had a decent chance of getting a hit in, but at the last minute his head snapped around and he easily deflected the water, diverting it back into the channel beside him.

The look on his face was one of exasperation. “You’re still standing?” he asked uncertainly.

Katara had to stop herself from letting out a weary laugh – any time she doubted her ability to fight against Aang he did something else that just proved that this was not her Aang in any way. She would never be the type to just lie down and let others have their way when she still had the ability to fight, and Aang knew that, praised her for that, _loved_ that about her.

Calmly, he walked over to her, reached out an arm and gently grasped her by the chin. Katara’s limbs promptly began refusing any orders from her brain, her hands relaxing and letting the water that had formed into baubles around them soak into the ground. He lifted his hand, forcing her to make eye contact with him, looking over her with a curious eye.

“You’re stronger than you look, waterbender. No wonder the Avatar is so in love with you.” There was a new appreciation in his voice; Katara let out a growl and suddenly water was called back to her hands and rushing around them. Her teeth clenched as she felt the icy coldness breeze around her, brushing her back and neck as her braid whipped around.

“Don’t talk about Aang,” she gritted out, a second wave of fury washing over her. “You have no right-“

The pressure at her neck suddenly lessoned, and with a huge gust of wind and the stomp of a foot she was pushed backwards, falling through the stream of water circling the pair and hitting the saturated ground hard.

“I don’t have time for this,” he hissed. “I have to get out of here while my pet destroys your companions.”

Katara groaned and shook her head, her eyes rolling back to see plumes of fire exploding in the clearing behind her. Faintly she recalled fighting Azula and Zuko stepping in, but it seemed so far away that it could have been a dream for all she knew. Her fingers twitched and the water twitched with it, but the spirit merely rolled his eyes.

“By all means, keep throwing the water around – it might actually _help_ me find the way out of here,” he invited, flinging his arms wide. The water mirrored his movements, rushing back away from them; Katara felt some that had soaked into her clothes and into the ground underneath her lift away.

It was getting harder and harder to process thoughts – the part of her that had trained in healing was shrieking about how hard she had struck her head – but this just seemed wrong. He _wanted_ her to get in his way? “Wha-?”

The grin on his face was lopsided, and he bent down low to the ground to look at her. “Didn’t you notice,” he asked sarcastically, as if it was totally obvious and she was an idiot not to have picked up on it sooner, “that only waterbenders had settled and could navigate through the swamp?”

There was crashing and yelling behind her, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember who was back there and whether or not it concerned her.

Aang turned his back to her and returned to the water, sweeping it away in huge gusts and pulling up rock to create a temporary dam and prevent it from flooding back. He would spend a few moments pacing through the wet ground, looking for the right way, before rubbing his eyes and snarling to himself, then dropping the rock dam and allowing the water to gush back in, sinking up to his knees before moving to another waterway.

“The problem,” she heard him say conversationally, “Is that it _changes_. The cycle of the moon _changes_ it.”

The process was repeated several times, and as he came no closer to his goal he become more and more frustrated. Katara watched with a clinical disinterest for a while, still slowly processing everything in her mind, until her thoughts began to fade and she began to focus on the water pulsing under her hands; with it came a second wind, a new wave of outrage and sense of justice.

Who was this spirit, to take everything away from her? She didn’t care what wrongs the Avatar had committed against him; neither Aang nor she deserved this, not after everything they had been through and all the time they had spent correcting the wrongs of others.

She balled her fists, and felt the water around them harden into ice, as sharp as any blade. The hot, righteous anger in her stomach spread through her body and gave her energy to pull herself up, and as she did so a wave of water rose with her.

There was no longer an edge of doubt to her actions, only single-minded determination. She took off in a halted gait towards him – pain was shooting up her right leg from what would later be discovered as a sprained ankle – but before she got three full steps in he spun around again and caught her right in the gut with a boulder.

The air rushed out of her lungs, and pain blossomed through her midsection. There was the disorienting sensation of falling, and then she hit the ground again. The stars returned but instead of clearing like the first time, they blurred and fell away into darkness. Katara barely had a moment to regret anything before she followed them, sliding away into unconsciousness.

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* * *

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dies Irae - Day of Wrath
> 
> A/N: Mai happily suffers from what is known as the "Legolas' Magic Refilling Quiver" Syndrome.


	15. Sic Semper Tyrannis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang finally receives some much needed help, and Zuko and Azula's standoff finally breaks

The morning dawned orange, melting from the deep purple of midnight until the light was filtering through the reddening clouds that obscured the sky. Aang watched this process anxiously, well aware that the more time he spent trapped in the spirit world meant more time his possessor had to get out of the swamp, more time that his friends spent in danger, and that much less time until everything fell to ruin.

He stared up into the sky, wondering why he’d seen the moon but could not see the sun, why there was only this sickly orange light everywhere-

“HEY!”

And then that damned fool popped up behind him, yelling in his ear and startling Aang right out of the throne. He forgot until too late that he no longer had the ability to bend air and hit the ground hard, all the breath rushing out of his lungs with a whoosh as he rolled to face the spirit, rubbing his head.

“What?” he asked gruffly, picking himself up off the ground and grimacing at the spirit’s silly face.

“Well, I was just thinking!” the spirit said brightly, tapping a little tune and shaking the bells on its head in beat. “If you’re not going to do anything-“

“I _am_ doing something!” Aang shouted, “I’m _trying_ to get out of here!”

“With all due respect, my liege,” the spirit bowed low before Aang once again, “you haven’t moved from the throne for a while. I just thought that if you were going to get out of here you would have done it by now.”

“_How_?” Aang shouted, a hot thread of irritation rising through his belly. “I can’t do something if I don’t know how to do it!”

To his complete consternation, the spirit’s face bunched up, big fat tears leaking from its eyes before it burst into sobs and threw itself against Aang.

“What? _What_?” Aang demanded in horror, shuffling backwards awkwardly and off balance with his arms clamped to his sides.

“My old master used to yell at me just like that!” the spirit wailed. Aang wrenched an arm from its grasp and patted it gently on the head.

“I’m… very sorry?” he ventured, hoping it was the solution to make the crying stop. “I didn’t want to bring up bad memories.”

“No you don’t understand – it’s just – I think I miss him so!” The hand that had been comforting the spirit slapped against Aang’s forehead.

“Get off of me please,” Aang growled, putting a palm firmly against the spirit’s forehead and pushing. He staggered back, and Aang resumed pacing around the clearing, muttering furiously to himself, “What am I going to do? What am I going to do? What am I going to do?”

He fell into a little rhythm, the steps of his feet falling in time with the monotone muttering; at some point he heard the spirit’s bawling cease, along with a choked call of, “Sir?”

Aang very determinedly ignored it, keeping his mind on task, working frantically to figure out how he was going to get out of there.

“What am I going to do?”

“Sir?”

“What am I going to do?”

“My liege?”

“What am I going to do?”

“New master?”

“What am I going to d-_yaaah_!” Aang had finally opened his eyes as he wheeled around only to find that a pair of calm grey eyes waiting right in front of him. For the second time in less than an hour Aang found himself startled to the ground, unable to catch himself with bending.

“Don’t do that!” he snapped before he realized that the figure in front of him was not the spirit but-

“Roku?” Aang breathed, hardly daring to believe that the figure in front of him could be the solemn firebender.

Roku said nothing, standing solidly in front of Aang – and then Aang blinked, and actually looked around, mouth slowly dropping stupidly in shock.

_There’s no way they can all fit in here._

But they could; just like at the Southern Air Temple, the previous Avatars stood in front of him, like a silent army he could command. The foolish spirit was cowering behind the throne like a cornered animal.

“Um,” Aang said uncertainly, pulling himself up and looking around, his head tilting back just a bit to make eye contact with Roku.

There was a disturbance farther back, and the crowd shifted as a female form finally burst from between Kyoshi and Roku (both of whom gave her a disapproving glare) and stood in front of Aang, a look of absolute outrage parked upon her face. Aang had to look down on her – she couldn’t have been much taller than Toph – though she demanded the attention of all in scarlet robes and a gold sash, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently in front of him.

Aang blinked down at her – he still hadn’t quite come to terms with the situation yet, but before either one of them could say anything there was a high-pitched squeal of joy.

“Daiyu! Lady Daiyu!” The spirit had popped up from behind the throne, actually climbing over it in its haste to get to the firebender, and dropped to one knee, taking one of her hands and bringing it to its lips.

“_Avatar_ Daiyu!” she corrected hotly, pulling the hand from its grip and swatting at it, jangling one of the bells. “And what are you doing here anyway?”

“I was bound here. Remember?” The spirit was still on one knee.

“No you were not.” Avatar Daiyu’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Only one was to stay here.” She looked around, sniffing in disapproval before her gaze fell firmly on Aang. “No one else was bound to this place.”

“You can get me out?” Aang asked, suddenly finding his voice and feeling almost dismayed to find it high-pitched out of shock and unease. The spirit world would never fail to take him by surprise.

“It was mine when I created it and it is mine to destroy,” Daiyu declared haughtily.

“I have no bending powers in the spirit world,” Aang pointed out.

“My pet serves my purposes,” she explained as if it were obvious; out of her long, dark hair suddenly poked a little face, smoke rising from its snout as it sniffed carefully, its eyes falling upon Aang.

“What, with that weeny dragon?” Aang pointed, blinking and looking carefully at the tiny orange creature perched on her shoulders.

The spirit, still on one knee, gasped in terror and ducked, taking cover behind Aang’s legs.

_   
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* * *

_  
_Zuko’s teeth were gritting audibly as he pumped his arms, sending short, hard blasts at his sister. She blocked them, absorbing some and deflecting others, but definitely taking several steps back, retreating momentarily to gather herself before coming at him again.

Azula spun and threw up a wall of flames to shield herself; Zuko instinctively threw up his hands to absorb any flames heading for his face and was surprised when he opened his eyes and was greeted with… more flames.

Looking around, he realized, with dread rising in his stomach, that the entire center of the swamp was starting to burn – flames licked at the edge of the great trunk, traveling out over the enormous roots. Blinking and swiping at his eyes, he could barely make out someone moving behind the trees, trying to stay out of the way of the flames.

_Mai_.

Azula burst up in front of him again, and Zuko immediately dropped down and stuck a leg out.

This was bad - Zuko was on the defensive now and he knew it, having been distracted by the flash of Mai’s hair. Despite the struggle he was locked in with Azula, he still had to fight every instinct to walk away, grab Mai’s shoulders and shake the truth out of her – had _everything_ just been a plot against him? Is that why she had helped him? To deliver him into Azula’s hands? Exactly what had been in it for her?

_Of course_. Of course it had all been a plot. He was the Fire Lord. He had fought against her for months and then sent her to live in exile. He had signed an order to arrest her if she ever stepped foot into the country again.

He was an idiot to think that she’d ever had a kind thought towards him again. He had assumed that she was acting as her own person – but when was the last time she had done that? When had she ever been anything other than an extension of Azula?

Zuko had never been so furious – and though that anger was directed at himself, he could feel it heating his blood, the base of his flames turning blue as he pushed harder, fighting through the shaking he could feel stirring in his arms and the cramp he could feel tightening his chest.

Azula was panting, but still blocking his shots – he might have gotten one or two hits in, judging by her bleeding and singed fingers and the scent of burning hair on the wind – but despite her disheveled appearance she didn’t look like she was going to lie down anytime soon.

He had always known he would have to face Azula again, but he had never imagined that it would be on any other terms than his own. The entire Fire Nation and half the Earth Kingdom had an eye out for her – what were the chances they’d come together on a level playing field and not with her in chains in front of him as he’d always expected?

There were several possible ends he’d always pictured with Azula. One of them involved assassins in the dead of night and his possible death. One of them involved her rotting in the now-empty dungeons in the lower levels of the palace. One of them involved her swinging from the gallows, a public scapegoat for a one hundred year-long war. The one he had always counted on, always assumed, always half-hoped would come to pass, was the one where she stayed in exile and he would live happily as the Fire Lord and eventually marry and have several sons and absolutely no daughters.

But, now, right in front of her – he grunted as a kick connected with his gut, then reached out and grabbed her by the ankle to set her off balance long enough for him to flip her – he could see perfectly clearly that she had never debated different endings. There had always only ever been one vision for her – his ruin, her taking the throne. This wasn’t just a battle to get out of the swamp; this wasn’t just a chance to beat her down long enough for him to gather his wits; this was a fight for _survival_. Azula wasn’t stopping until one of them was dead.

* * *

It wasn’t until the vines had wrapped firmly around both of her wrists and one knee that Ty Lee actually looked up.

Her shriek of terror was somewhat lost in all the other chaos; for a moment she ceased her struggling against the binds holding her, staring up in mouth-gaping horror at the beast that stood above them, towering over them but it’s eyes fixed firmly on manipulating the mess of vines in front of it.

Muscles bulged, and yellowed teeth gleamed dully, curving outward from a long, snarling snout. Sitting back on its haunches, a pair of dark arms were wrapped around Toph – Ty Lee could now see, between the writhing green and black vines, long, skinny grey claws flexing – and another pair of arms were planted into the earth, not unlike the great trunk in the center of the swamp.

The world around her blurred and slowed down and suddenly she was seeing every tiny, minute detail around her:

The beast’s eyes gleamed as if focused on the task at hand, the edges of its mouth pulled back to show off all its teeth – _Human_, Ty Lee thought. The look on its face was a human expression of joy and lust.

There was a single bead of sweat on Sokka’s forehead, rolling slowly down the side of his face, his mouth open and shouting words she could no longer hear.

Ty Lee blinked and the world slowly widened, letting her see the fire that was springing up around the center’s borders, smoke pouring into the canopy above them. Azula was in the center of that, she knew, and Zuko was with her, but to what end Ty Lee had no idea. The fire made everything in the early morning haze appear a sickly orange, the closest to true sunlight that Ty Lee had experienced since they’d first walked into the swamp.

And then in an instant everything snapped back into proper motion; from the center, at the trunk, came a glow brighter than the fire around them, a clean, burning light that melted from blue to white, illuminating the entire swamp and overtaking everything around them despite the fact that absolutely no one and nothing had reacted to it; the battles raged on, swamp water moved, and fire burned despite the authority the light commanded.

The moment the light fell upon the beast it gave a great shriek of pain – Ty Lee felt the ground rumble underneath her – and fell back, it’s arms digging deeper into the earth while it scrambled to return to its feet. In front of her, the vines settled, and Sokka easily cut through the remaining green to swoop in and scoop up Toph before she hit the ground. He dropped to his knees and Ty Lee’s eyes followed suit.

“Toph!” One hand came up to pat a cheek gently, and though she didn’t respond Ty Lee looked over her and could already see the shallow rising of her chest.

“She’s breathing, and her chi hasn’t been blocked –“ One of Ty Lee’s hands fell to Sokka’s shoulder. “She should be okay.”

Sokka blinked up at her, the expression on his face frightened and unsure, but Ty Lee was distracted, her attention drawn back to the light in the center of the swamp.

The light still shone, but beyond it she could see figures, men and women from all the nations picking their way over the trees and roots, each set of eyes trained on something and not at all concerned with the fighting benders or the burning plants. Sokka was saying something beside her, but the words were just a dull buzz to Ty Lee, who was staring at the figures.

They had a different aura than the one that she’d sensed in the swamp before; there was power: raw, intense, terrible power, but none of the maliciousness that she’d sensed before. They were calm as they moved, serene, with absolute confidence in what they were doing, with none of the anxious, overbearing fear she’d felt for so long.

“Ty Lee!” Sokka finally broke through her reverie. Her head snapped back down to face him. “We have to get out of here. I have to get Toph out of here.”

“But they…” Ty Lee trailed off, gesturing uselessly to the scene in front of her. “I think they can help!”

Sokka stared at her, eyebrows drawn into a frown. “Who can help?”

Her jaw dropped. “Can’t you _see_ them?” she demanded.

Sokka’s face remained blank.

* * *

A cool hand on her cheek roused her from sleep. Katara blinked blearily at the form standing over her as she felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulders, pulling her up.

“Come now, Hai. You cannot lie down here. You’re needed.”

“I’m awake, Liu,” Katara automatically groaned back, still rubbing her eyes and waiting for the blurry figures to morph into a clear picture. When her eyes finally started to cooperate with her, she still couldn’t bring herself to move, her mind racing to match up what she’d seen before she’d blacked out and what was in front of her now.

The woman kneeling in front of her reflected Katara’s own looks – the same dark skin and hair, pale eyes blinking at her in concern – but her hair was different, and her clothing outdated, her parka striped with colors that the Water Tribes hadn’t used in years because of the unavailability of dyes.

For a moment Katara could only look at her, wondering when they could have possibly met before and how Katara could have known her name, and then she looked beyond the woman to the scene that had replaced the chaos she’d faced before.

She could still see Aang’s body, eyes and tattoos still glowing, standing knee deep in water with both hands held up placatingly. He was surrounded in an ever-widening circle of men and women from all the nations – despite the shimmering, surreal quality to all of them Katara raised a hand to the woman’s face (_She knew her, how did she know her_) and could feel cool, smooth skin sliding against her palm.

“Up, Hai,” Liu commanded, her grip on Katara’s arms tightening as she tried to help the injured waterbender. Katara groaned as she was pulled up to her knees, then to her feet, looking around wildly for Aang himself.

She glimpsed him standing at the center of the little gathering. Staggering through the crowd – which parted easily for her – Katara made her way to meet him, until a firm hand grabbed her by the wrist.

“Wait, for now.” Roku.

“Aang needs me,” Katara hissed, trying to wrench her arm from his grip. It held steady.

“You are as impatient as ever, Ayano.” He tsked. “Wait with me.”

Katara made another half-hearted attempt to pull away from the firebender, but her attention was quickly drawn away to where Aang was standing defensively, in front of his own body, alongside another firebender, long scarlet sleeves twitching as she shrieked and ranted.

“And what you’ve done to that poor creature! Turning him into your pet! Do you understand the atrocities he’s committed in your name?!” Her voice was growing shriller; a tiny orange dragon no higher than Katara’s calf circled the trio in an agitated manner.

“Really, it was our own poor foresight,” Roku murmured, discontent. “We never saw the swampbenders moving in, or his connection to them.”

Katara didn’t spare him a glance, her eyes trained only on Aang, who had a look on his face that mixed amazement and confusion.

“He was not yours to take! I did not bind him to you or the clearing!” The lady’s fists were clenched, smoking slightly. Katara failed to notice that there was not nearly enough smoke to account for the overwhelming stench of the stuff, floating on the wind.

Aang’s body finally fell back, a defensive swirl encasing it. “You will not take this back from me.”

“It is not yours to keep!” she declared. “That body was mine once, and this place belongs to me.” Her pet dragon snarled, teeth showing, a bit of flame bursting from his snout. Aang’s body took a nervous step back, his eyes darting down but his hands still up defensively.

“What is Daiyu doing?” Katara whispered, taking another step closer despite the fact that Roku’s grip was as tight as ever.

“She is returning Aang’s body to him. This spirit’s power is so persuasive that it took Daiyu herself to destroy the clearing even though Aang had the power to leave the whole time. The beast that attacked the earthbender and the fool who used to trail after Daiyu were also under his power.” Roku shook his head. “His ability to take over a will is astounding.”

“He’s really that dangerous?” she asked, finally tilting her head back to him, just enough to keep Aang in the corner of her eye.

Roku did not meet her glance. “It took us an entire cycle to bind him somewhere in the Spirit World where he could not access humans, and we failed even there. There is no place in this world that humans have not touched.”

Daiyu spread her hands, allowing flame to spring from the ground and from her palms; Aang’s body immediately dropped out of the whirlwind and fell back, hands over his face. The flames did not cease, though Daiyu paused in preparing her attack.

“Are you still afraid of the fire?” she asked, almost teasingly, allowing the flame in her palm to dance, its color flickering blue to compete with Aang’s tattoos. “You’re in the body of a master firebender and still you cannot bring yourself to use it?”

The spirit let out a low-pitched whine, hands still in front of its face as it watched the flame in front of it warily.

“You were burned once and yet here you are again.” Daiyu’s voice dropped, her arms spreading wide as she wielded her natural element. “This time I shall raze you so that there is nothing left to rise from the ashes.”

The dragon at her feet puffed his chest out at her words, taking in a deep breath and letting out an impressive plume of fire, larger than he himself was, circling around the feet of Aang’s body, causing the spirit to yelp and rock up on his toes.

Aang – the actual Aang, _her_ Aang, the one Katara wanted to get to so badly – had turned to face Daiyu, breaking his stance as if to interrupt her, as if he had just suddenly understood what was happening and what she was planning.

“What’s going on?” Katara whimpered, unable to help the claustrophobic panic that rose up her gut at the sight of the flames spreading around her, unable to be tempered by her own waterbending ability.

The fire closed in around Aang’s body and a terrible, frightened wail arose from the center; a white, frothy wind, a mix of Aang’s waterbending and airbending, spread out, fanning the flames and pushing them outward, making the flame that Daiyu’s dragon was pushing out even stronger as it spread along the ground and traveled up the trees and across the vines.

Roku’s voice held the slight tremor of someone trying to sound sure of himself even as he fought his own anxiousness. “She’s destroying the swamp.”

* * *

She was close. She was _so_ close to victory she could see it, taste it, feel it right in the marrow of her very bones. Zuko was backpedaling rapidly – the sleeves of his tunic had almost burned away completely – and answering all her offensive strokes with purely defensive ones.

Her only regret was that Zuko was in plainclothes and not his royal regalia – she would have loved nothing more than to physically rip the crown off of his head and place it on her own.

All she had to do was push a little harder, a little faster, use even more energy to burn brighter and hotter – she already had Zuko just where she wanted him, where she needed him, and all she needed was a decisive finishing blow to end it and take her rightful place once and for all.

The difference between her and Zuko, she’d realized a long time ago, was that she could ignore physical discomfort until the end of the fight. Zuko was pale, gasping for breath, his eyes wild and watering as he tried to keep track of her movements through the heavy smoke that was settling through the area. It was slowing his timing down, giving her openings that she hadn’t had when they’d first run into each other, and though his flame had gotten hotter, finally burning blue at the base, Azula had once wielded lighting through her body, and Zuko’s flame was nothing compared to that.

There was time for pain later. Right now it was either everything or nothing, and Azula had long ago vowed that nothing was unacceptable. It would be foolish to hold back when she could heal later.

She stepped heavily and brought her wrists together; a hard blast shot out towards her brother. Though Zuko waved it away, the force of it still hit him, pushing him back into the trunk of the great tree. Flames danced all around him, and he ducked and pushed back, sending a low stream of blue towards her feet, trying to force her down, trying to create an opening.

_Too slow, too weak_, she thought joyfully, jumping up and pushing towards him, one leg outstretched to make solid contact with his head. He dodged at the last second – the heel of her boot caught his shoulder- and they both rolled away in opposite directions, Zuko taking advantage of Azula’s short scramble to her feet to try and catch his breath.

She stood up again and turned to face him, taking special care to brush off her pants before looking at him with a half-grin on her face – Azula had _missed_ this, fighting with fire. She’d been forced to hide it for so long, living among the Earth Kingdom peasants, and now she felt like a little part of her had been restored, reinvigorating her every move and step. She’d always felt like a fool when she had had to rely on hand-to-hand combat or – even more degrading, in her opinion – swords for self-defense.

Zuko blinked and Azula moved, lunging forward, heat at her wrist and steam rising from her mouth. She aimed a blow at his neck that he easily intercepted, and he in turn kicked out, intending to hit her in the knees; the shot missed miserably and Zuko lost his balance, overextending one knee as he staggered forward and throwing all of his weight into Azula as he stumbled.

They both fell forward. Zuko caught himself with both hands and rolled to the side just in time to avoid Azula’s hastily thrown blast – it roared across his face, just inches away from his nose, and she could see the look of surprise on his face as he fell back into the mud.

Everything in her vision was red or black – the fire burning around them, the smoke hanging in the air, Zuko’s scar, the hair hanging in her face, the red of his traveling cloak – it filled her senses and tugged at some primal part of her that screamed for more, more fire, more blood, more fear from Zuko, more effort from her own body, more, more, _end it_, more-

Therefore Azula was shocked out of her focus by the flying silver, reflecting dull orange in the light as it whooshed close to her face and snagged the loose cloth under her arm, tearing through the fabric of her shirt but doing no damage to her skin.

She skidded to a stop, her mind instantly recapturing that lost focus as her eyes snapped from her arm up to Mai, who was standing to the side facing the fighting siblings.

Anger reared up, pure rage and betrayal like she hadn’t felt in so long – she was used to the bitter hatred Zuko inspired inside of her; it was a nurtured and deeply cared for grudge - but Mai: of all the people she could have ever expected an inopportune betrayal from, she would have never considered level-headed Mai to be the one who interrupted her at the cusp of victory.

“What are you doing?!” Azula shrieked, her shrill voice a far cry from the self-assured and sultry tone that she had cultivated so carefully as a princess and favored child.

Mai’s reply was white noise to the rushing in Azula’s ears; words vaguely filtered through – “get out,” “help” and “out of control,” specifically, inspiring even more anger in Azula – she’d just had things perfectly in control when Mai had stopped her, she’d only been a few moves away from the killing blow, and now the color was returning to Zuko’s face and his jaw had set as he settled back into his defensive position, one arm out in front of the other, fully prepared to defend himself against two enemies now if that was what he had to do.

Azula snarled. “Go _away_!” she commanded, pumping her arms and sending a long blast towards Mai and easily jumping to attack Zuko again. Zuko reeled, and Azula noted with considerable pleasure that though Mai had given him a chance to regroup he was still distracted, his eyes flickering over to where Mai had been standing – now a wreath of dancing flames with no sign of the girl in green – even as Azula bore down upon him.

How, how, how had he become Fire Lord when he was so easily distracted? So easily attached to people who didn’t care about him? How was it possible that he objectively ruled the Fire Nation? Zuko’s very behavior in their fight had only validated every single belief that Azula knew to her very core to be true: the Fire Nation had a weakling and a coward sitting on it’s throne, and it was time for her to take it back and strengthen it once again.

He wasn’t even responding to her attacks anymore, only dodging and spinning and throwing defensive blocks; the pair burst through the walls of fire that had sprang up around them, dancing around the burning trunks with no notice or personal concern and with only defeat and survival in mind.

Everything around her was moving slower – that or she was moving faster, if possible – and when she saw Zuko, fighting through her latest blast, dip his arms and give her the perfect opening she had been waiting for, she pounced.

Azula could see it, so perfectly, so clearly; Zuko could too, she could see the fear and disbelief flickering in his eyes. Her angle, her trajectory and the force behind it were perfect, and she could feel the heat in her wrists and arms and up through her chest as the flame started with her breath and spread through her body and it was perfect and right and everything she had been waiting for –

And for the second time since she had started fighting with Zuko she was interrupted; by a swift jerking motion that started from her navel and abrupt loss of breath as she exhaled swiftly. Thick vines, wreathed in flames, wrapped snugly around her limbs and chest and crawled upwards quickly, moving faster than she ever could, not even giving her a chance to fight back as they immobilized her, pinning her arms and legs and pulling her up.

Flame did not burn her, but the vines slithering around her neck destroyed her breath and ruined the core of her firebending, choking her and making it nearly impossible for her to recover; smoke that she’d had no problem waving away moments earlier swam in front of her eyes, and as she shook her head violently to clear her sight she saw, perfectly unharmed in front of her and gawking like some child, her brother.

She gritted her teeth – the vines were still moving up, around her neck and around her chin and moving farther up still because she could taste the heavy stink of the swamp in her mouth – and tried to flex her wrists, tried to burn her way out through her hands, and though they loosened momentarily as she wriggled they tightened almost immediately, though one hand had come close to breaking through to the surface.

Zuko was still standing there, and suddenly she realized as she gagged and struggled harder against her binds, that he had a hand held up for her to grasp if she could.

The sight of it caused her to freeze, even as the vines covered her nose and the exhaustion of panic and several days of running on nothing but adrenaline suddenly took over.

_Fool_. She cursed him viciously. _Weakling_. _I was about to kill you and you still offer me your hand_. All she had to do was break loose one hand, one hand to grasp his, the same hand that would have ripped the crown from his very head to take his life and save her’s –

The hand clenched, and then relaxed. Azula closed her eyes – orange and green dots were dancing in front of her anyways – and turned her head away.

Zhao had taught her _so_ much more than forms and breathing.

_   
_

* * *

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sic Semper Tyrannis - Thus Always to Tyrants


	16. Cedant Arma Togae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumi gathers some much needed information, tensions raise even further at the Fire Nation court, and Cai plots a daring escape

“King Bumi, sir!” Bumi twisted in his saddle and turned to look at the soldier who had ridden up beside him. “Have you considered stopping and making camp? We rode through the night again and a lot of the men are exhausted…”

Bumi blinked at him, and then turned further in his seat to look at the riders bringing up the rear. It hadn’t occurred to him to explain the reason for his haste, how he was desperate to get back to Omashu and repair any of Bao’s damage, how he needed to get his city in order before the tense situation with the Fire Nation exploded into something completely uncontrollable.

“I’m 115 years old,” he said frankly, returning his piercing gaze to the rider who’d drawn the short straw and had been forced to confront him.

“Er, that’s the other thing, sir.” A bright red bloom crawled across his face, and Bumi found himself intensely amused at the discomfort of the soldier. “We were… er… concerned for your health.”

Bumi raised an eyebrow. “I’m 115 years old,” he repeated. “I think I know when I’m ready to rest, and I assure you, I’m fine.” He cast an appraising eye back at the weary soldiers behind him. “Kids today…”

Later, he was glad that he had insisted on continuing when they ran into the makeshift campsite of the 21st infantry, who were tending to many wounded while continuing their orders to march west.

“Who gave you those orders?” Bumi asked, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. The leaders had been making such an effort to keep the military out of this, in order to keep civilians calm. It seemed some bigheaded captain had overstepped his boundaries or was seeking a promotion.

It was a big problem for the Earth Kingdom army – with two strongholds and two kings, there was no central authority figure. It wasn’t uncommon for orders to pass through the ranks without any legitimate starting point, making it impossible to pinpoint who was responsible for what. It had merely been one of a myriad of problems that had helped drag the war out 100 years…

The colonel he was questioning shrugged. “I got orders. They were marked with General Fong’s seal, but…” He shrugged again, and Bumi conceded the point. Seals were easily faked and were just another one of the army’s many problems.

“What happened to your men?” Bumi asked, casting a wide look across the camp. “It looks like you went into combat.”

Most men had bandages wrapped around various limbs and were passing around burn ointment. A few had broken bones or bruised muscles from where they had been hit with debris – even the colonel himself hadn’t escaped injury, with a thick white bandage wound around his head. The group was in total disarray, even with the aid Bumi’s caravan was providing.

A scowl crossed Haru’s face. “That rebel bastard, Jet. We ran into him by chance a little west of here, raiding a storehouse.”

Bumi’d had years to practice his poker face; he was a master of not letting people know what he was thinking, but it very nearly slipped at the words of the colonel.

Bao had been the one Bumi had placed in charge of searching for the rebel and his band of troublemakers; the king had been informed by Bao himself that Jet was currently hiding in the North, biding his time before making another strike.

It had never occurred to Bumi to doubt his word, and now he couldn’t help wondering just how much information had been fabricated or misconstrued by the young man’s hand.

Bumi realized belatedly that Colonel Haru was waiting for a response. “Jet’s group prides itself on its reconnaissance. It seems out of character that they would raid a storehouse knowing that an entire infantry was waiting there to arrest them.”

Haru nodded. “We definitely took them by surprise, there’s no doubt. I think that’s why their earthbender hit me so hard – Jet doesn’t like to deviate from his set plans, so I don’t think he wanted to kill me because it would just be too messy-“

“So he just tried to beat the knowledge out of your skull,” Bumi finished, bringing up a hand to rub his chin. A word stuck out of Haru’s sentence. “There’s never been a report of an earthbender with the Freedom Fighters before.”

Haru seemed almost apologetic. “With all due respect sir, we’re both earthbenders. We know our own.”

_Our own_. Bumi nearly cringed at the words, things suddenly falling neatly into place in his mind. What had he been told about Bao when he’d come to court? _A war orphan, taken in for his earthbending ability_.

With a long sigh, Bumi looked up into the sky, rubbing the back of his head thoughtfully. When he’d spoken to the Earth King in Ba Sing Se, his words had been facetious, but now…

“Hmph. I guess I really am going to have to live forever.”

“King Bumi?”

“Pack up, get your men ready. I’m changing your orders, you’re coming west with me.”

“Sir!” Haru shot up and saluted before charging off to fulfill these new directions. Bumi looked at the men gathered in the camp.

“And get a nap in, you’re going to need your strength!” he called lightly at the colonel’s retreating form.

* * *

Earth Kingdom animals were _disgusting_. Cai had reached this conclusion after having spent nearly the entirety of his trip to the Earth Kingdom on either one of two animals native to the nation. The shirshu had been large and terrifying, with it’s matted fur and constant squealing and snotting everywhere. Ostrich horses were flat-out smelly, and riding them was among the more uncomfortable experiences of his life – the lizards of the Fire Nation had a nice, steady rock to them, but the ostrich horse - it practically hopped when it walked. Cai was developing a backache from it that complimented the aches in his wrists and head nicely.

Honestly, this entire experience in the Earth Kingdom had been an exercise in discomfort. He’d never left the Fire Nation before – as soon as he’d graduated from the Academy he’d spent a few years marching around the Fire Nation ports, his family’s name keeping him both out of combat and quietly rising through the ranks. Right after he’d been named a Major the war had ended, and again, his father had pulled him out of service and forced him to return to court, where he’d somehow ended up one of Lord Zuko’s advisors. (In all honesty, he’d laughed like hell when the Avatar and Zuko had requested a meeting – but then the airbender had apparently decided that his quiet demeanor and his experience with the Fire Nation public would serve Zuko well.)

The Fire Nation public had little in common with the Earth Kingdom public. He had anticipated this, certainly, but not to _this_ extent. He’d been separated from his crew, handcuffed for a crime that involved fire, and stuck on the back of this squawking beast; _not_ to mention that he’d been scolded for a hundred years worth of Fire Nation atrocities. (That was, perhaps, the bit that was most unsettling for Cai – he’d been a relatively unobtrusive child, worked hard in school, rarely attracted unwanted attention from instructors, and he never, _ever_, broke formation when lining up and earned the ire of his commanding officer. To be scolded at, and in public no less, was a direct affront to his sense of fairness.)

Certainly, he’d done his best to maneuver with a low profile in the tense political climate, once he’d learned from his initial misstep when they’d first landed. He took the blame for not better preparing himself for one hundred years worth of mistrust in a kingdom that was so wary of the Fire Nation that they had instantly blamed the missing Fire Lord – who had helped _bring peace _to both nations, no less – for the missing Avatar.

The Fire Nation _had_ once been that bloodthirsty – it was well-known royal family lore, that each prince spent a time searching for the missing Avatar, so that the Fire Nation could eliminate him as a factor in the war – and they had made such an impression on the Earth Kingdom that it distressed Cai, the knowledge of what he was about to do. He felt almost as if he personally were confirming everything that the Earth Kingdom suspected of the Fire Nation and its people.

Bao had been quiet since his last outburst. The earthbender sat straight up in the saddle, as if determined to both ignore and torture his burden. Cai had heard him introduce himself as the heir of Omashu, though none of the clothing he was wearing marked his station. If what he had said was true, then Cai knew he stood no chance once they reached the headquarters and Bao’s version of the story was spread. By the time word reached Iroh, it would be too late for diplomacy and who knew what Azula could have done with Lord Zuko by then.

Taking slow, deep breaths, he closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. They were riding through a heavily wooded area, but the sun was still peeking through the trees, and the sky was cloudless, providing them with ample light. He could feel it through the breaks between the branches, shining almost directly on them. Focusing on it, he drew the heat inward, to his center, allowing it to concentrate before pinpointing it, sending it towards his hands.

Only an earthbender could remove the cuffs, Bao had told him, but a firebender could heat the rock and weaken it. He couldn’t remove them completely, not without doing himself bodily harm, as he could only absorb so much of the heat himself, but he could diminish their strength, and force them to break away.

He eyed Bao’s back carefully for a moment before speaking. “Excuse me, but I really need to relieve myself.”

“No stopping.”

“I shall have an accident on the back of this fine animal.”

“I’m not stopping.”

“Some of it will get on you.”

Five minutes later, Cai turned a shoulder and glared at Bao out of the corner of his eye. “I can’t go with you watching me,” he insisted. “Just turn your head for a minute.”

He could hear the man’s teeth gritting audibly in his head. Letting out a huff, Bao did not turn away but did incline his head, just a little, just enough to take his focus off of Cai.

It was all Cai needed; lurching forward, as if he had lost his balance, he allowed his wrists to slam against the truck of the tree. The rocks binding his wrists cracked, and with a hard twist he wrenched them apart and broke himself free.

The instant he had moved Bao had rocked forward as if to catch him; when Cai had hit his wrists Bao had stomped, ripping the ground dangerously below the pair, but once Cai had his hands back he allowed the warmth that had pooled in his wrists, pounding through his pulse, to finally release, letting a bright orange flame explode from his hands and sending Bao reeling back.

Given his opening, Cai took off, tearing through the woods as fast as his legs could carry him. He’d probably just made the situation worse; he’d probably just validated Bao’s beliefs that all Fire Nation citizens were devious, suspicious people – but those were the least of his concerns as he focused on trying to put as much distance as he possibly could between him and the earthbender.

* * *

He knew even before he opened his eyes that he was ill; he could feel it in the way his chest rattled with each breath and the soreness of his throat as he breathed through his open mouth.

Rolling over, Iroh cracked open an eye, wondering how late he was and how long the servants had let him sleep. No matter how many times he commanded them to wake him on time, they always invariably let him snooze an extra half hour if he didn’t wake himself.

He had expected this – brushes with the Spirit World always left him tired and achy, and the more tired he was the more prone he left himself to illness. After his intense vision the day before and how little he’d been sleeping in Zuko’s absence, Iroh had simply been waiting for the cold he knew was coming.

Despite the temptation to just stay there, wrapped up in comfortable blankets and ignoring the sun shining underneath the heavy drapes and the advisors who were undoubtedly waiting patiently for him, Iroh pulled himself from bed and got dressed, pausing long enough to crack open the door and greet the servant who was finally coming around to wake him up.

“You let me sleep in,” he accused the old woman, who merely tsked and flicked a wrist at him as she gathered his laundry.

“I could tell by your voice last night that you weren’t feeling good” she said firmly, not even looking at the general as she worked. Only a servant who’d known Iroh since he was a teenager would have the gall to address him so informally. She was one of his favorites. “You need your rest; I know you’ve been staying up late again.”

“You’re not my mother,” Iroh complained, instantly put in the position of petulant child.

She didn’t bat an eye. “You spend too much time worrying after that boy and not enough worrying about your own health.”

“Someone has to worry about him,” Iroh asserted, and the maid shrugged as she continued through the room.

“Either way, the advisors are eagerly awaiting your presence at breakfast,” she informed him lightly. He could tell by her tone that something was wrong – she was notorious for urging him to “leave the stuffed shirts waiting and take a day off” in the mornings.

He slunk into the dining room, sighing deeply as he sat down and cast an appraising eye about the room. Every single one of the advisors were shifting uncomfortably in their seats and wearing expressions of apprehension on their faces. Iroh wondered if Zuko had knowingly picked advisors who showed the exact same signs of anxiety as he did or if the lot of them had simply picked it up from the young Fire Lord. Either way, Iroh allowed himself a moment to be amused at the men’s discomfort before clearing his throat – it burned like fire, and he hastily grabbed for the tea pot – and croaking out, “Just tell me what’s happened now.”

“There’s been an incident in the Southern Earth Kingdom,” Guiren started miserably, having been chosen yet again to be the bearer of bad news. “It appears there’s been some sort of raid on some little farming community that was storing military weapons. The village was burned to the ground.”

Iroh raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t take a firebender to set a fire.”

“No sir,” Guiren nodded in agreement before adding, “It appears, however, that the presence of military weapons was classified knowledge and that most of the Earth Kingdom military has decided it’s an inside job.”

Iroh blinked in confusion. “So they’ve decided that Zuko is responsible both for the Avatar’s disappearance and for raiding a military holding?”

Guiren just nodded. The rest of the advisors simply stared glumly into their plates, not a single soul eating a bite.

Iroh sighed again. It was, of course, a logical conclusion for panicking citizens to reach.

“There are Fire Nation dissidents living over there who’ve abandoned the country since Lord Zuko took the throne. Perhaps they have merely taken their chance to make things harder for him,” he mused, reading through the reports and mentally composing a missive to King Bumi. The old earthbender might be insane, but he would wait for a response from the Fire Nation about the incident before taking any sort of action.

He put aside the scrolls before reaching for his plate and taking a bite of tasteless eggs. The only thing that would have any taste for the next three days while he rode out his illness would be his tea.

Despite the tenseness of the situation, he was not nearly as concerned about this newly added problem. He had sent Cai into the Earth Kingdom to act as a representative for the throne while he searched for Zuko and Azula, and surely he could handle any problems that cropped up with the grace and confidence that diplomacy demanded.

He looked back up at his advisors, each one mirroring an upset, unsure face.

“Everything will be all right,” he announced calmly.

* * *

Bao grunted in irritation as he easily pulled apart the landscape with short, even strokes of his arms. The firebender must have been far more nimble than he’d given him credit for, however, because whenever Bao upset the ground beneath him Cai had simply managed to dodge or just barely keep his feet. Their surroundings weren’t helping him either – the firebender was dressed in tans and browns, blending in with the trees and dead brush as he ran through the forest, though Bao wasn’t particularly worried – Cai had no idea where he was going, and eventually Bao would catch up with him, apprehend him, and get him to the 17th infantry’s headquarters even if he had to drag him there by his stupid ponytail.

Of course, they wouldn’t be helped by the fact that sunset was rapidly approaching, or by the fact that Bao had left the ostrich horse behind in his haste to chase after Cai. He dug his feet particularly harshly into the ground, letting it rise quickly to create dangerous rifts in the ground. Trees groaned and cracked as their earth was moved, and roots sprang from the earth as they were disturbed from their resting places. The flash of light brown between two fallen trees in front of him told him that the firebender had somehow escaped him again, and Bao gritted his teeth as he dug in and picked up speed, trying to catch up with his escaped captive.

The shadows of the forest deepened as the sun dipped towards the horizon, and it became harder and harder to follow the movements of the firebender. It was somewhat of a relief to Bao when he realized that he could no longer hear the sounds of him crashing through the brush, and, figuring that Cai had finally tripped and fallen or hurt himself, he pushed forward, determined to catch up with him before he had a chance to escape again.

The firebender was indeed on the ground, and with a look of terrible fear on his face, but his gaze was not directed at Bao but instead at the full infantry headed by the king of Omashu himself, silhouetted against the setting sun in a set of garish orange robes. Bao and his prey had accidentally stumbled upon the training grounds of the 17th Infantry, just a mile or so south of the base itself.

Bao skidded to a stop, for a moment forgetting all about the firebender in favor of gaping at the old king standing in front of him, looking utterly nonplussed to see a firebender followed by his heir come tearing out of the surrounding forests. His mind raced, simultaneously trying to understand exactly why Bumi had ended up leaving Ba Sing Se and berating himself for underestimating the king once again.

For a moment relief coursed through him – the king himself was here, and Bao could explain the situation directly to him instead of waiting for it to filter through the unreliable rumor mills!

And then Bao remembered with crashing dread that he was actually _relying_ on those same unreliable rumor mills to buy time so he could press the case against Cai forward, to ratchet the tension between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom up even more, maybe even break the uneasy bonds between the nations.

Cursing, he grabbed Cai by the elbow and hauled him up, dragging him forward towards the kings and the stone-faced guards, determined to see the story through to the end.

“My lord,” he announced gruffly, shoving Cai in front of him for Bumi to study. “I assume if you’re this far south then you’ve heard-“

“Terrible, terrible situation, Master Bao,” Bumi tsked fretfully, before turning to the major standing next to him and gesturing for the delicate china cup full of coffee that the man had been holding. Taking a sip and eyeing Bao over the rim of the cup, he said, “It appears they were out of the roasted blend back at base, and I’ve had to settle for the vanilla almond.”

Several of the guards’ jaws dropped, but Bao had known Bumi for years and merely waved off the old man’s ravings. “That truly is awful, my lord. But I do have good news! I have arrested the one responsible for raiding the militia storehouse and the subsequent forest and village fire.”

“Good news indeed!” Bumi gave him a toothy grin, tossing the china carelessly over one shoulder – there was a startled yelp from the soldier directly behind the king - before bending over to look at the kneeling Cai. “This is the one you say is responsible?”

“Yes, my lord.” Bao wasn’t sure what game Bumi was in the mood to play, but he hoped the old king would get this over with as quickly as possible. He wasn’t in the mood for word games, riddles, or scavenger hunts, no matter how much it suited Bumi’s purposes.

“This one, right here?” Bumi asked, poking Cai directly in the forehead. The firebender flinched and opened his mouth to speak, but Bao easily spoke over him.

“Yes, this man right here. He’s a firebender and was brought to me by the bounty hunter Jun. Did you know the shirshu can tell firebenders apart from other benders by the scent of sulfur?”

Bumi wrinkled his nose at the mention and then peered down at Cai once again. “_Are_ you a firebender?”

Cai nodded hesitantly, and made another attempt to speak that Bumi squashed almost immediately.

“And my own heir arrested you for the crime of raiding a storehouse and setting a fire?” the king asked curiously.

Cai just nodded again.

“Right!” Bumi clapped his hands delightedly. “That about wraps everything up. What a neat and tidy ending!” He turned to the major next to him and gestured vaguely in front of him. “Please arrest Master Bao.”

“What?!” Bao couldn’t help the outraged shout that rose up and out of his mouth. Beneath him, Cai let out a noise of intense relief, something along the lines of, “Nguh,” as his body sagged and he pitched forward on all fours.

“Funny thing, Master Bao,” Bumi watched with an uninterested eye as the guards stepped forward to take Bao into custody. “I ran into the 21st infantry yesterday. Their colonel had a head injury, and swore up and down that it was not caused by a firebender but by an earthbender traveling with the Freedom Fighters.”

“Everyone knows the Freedom Fighters don’t have an earthbender,” Bao automatically shot, rocking back onto his heels when the guards tried to lead him forward.

“And I also know that the last known location of the Freedom Fighters was far north – that’s what your own research told me. So where,” Bumi tapped a finger against his chin in deep thought. “did Colonel Haru get the idea that he’d been attacked by the Freedom Fighters and not by the Fire Nation?”

Dismay rose up through Bao’s chest. He’d been outmaneuvered – Jet had fretted over whether or not to kill the colonel, almost panicked by being taken so off guard, and Bao had stopped him, unwilling to be responsible for the death of a fellow earthbender. “I hit him hard enough,” Bao had sworn, nudging Haru’s bleeding head nonchalantly with the edge of his foot. “He’ll be lucky if he remembers his own name when he wakes up. Just leave him.”

Longshot and Pipsqueak had shown up then, each covered with sweat and soot, cradling a bundle of weapons in their arms, and Jet had glared at Bao before rushing to help them and everything had happened so fast after that. He should have known he was pushing his luck when Jun had located a firebender to serve as a scapegoat so quickly – he hadn’t expected her to find one, he had been planning on eventually pinning it on some poor merchant in some port somewhere on the coast.

“You just wait,” he hissed at Bumi as the guards dragged him back towards base, hands held firmly behind his back. “You think you know what’s happening, but you’ll never stop Jet.”

* * *

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Colonel Haru called pleasantly, tilting his head back as he peered into the branches above him where the leader of the Freedom Fighters had frozen in shock.

Fast as lightning, Jet jumped out of the trees, already pulling out the hooked swords he was famous for, heading directly for Colonel Haru.

Almost lazily, Haru dragged his foot along the ground and brought his arms up with a decisive gesture; a tall pillar of rock rose from the earth, aimed directly for the flying Freedom Fighter. He managed to vault off of it at the last moment, only to be caught in the gut as a second column of rock instantly shot up.

“It is a shame you couldn’t keep the earthbender among your ranks, Jet,” Haru mused as he encased Jet in rock up to his shoulders, pinning his arms to his sides as his hooked swords clattered to the ground. “Earthbending abilities are remarkably useful, aren’t they?”

Jet shot Haru a glare that indicated that he was not nearly as amused at the situation as Haru was, then cocked his head back, pursed his lips, and let a high-pitched whistle rock through the forest.

“Do you know, off hand, how long you’ve been wanted by the Earth Kingdom, Jet?” Haru asked mildly, not at all alarmed to see dark forms dropping out of the surrounding trees.

“Does it really matter?” Jet sneered, his eyes betraying his anxiety, darting over Haru’s shoulders as the figures approached.

“Four and a half years,” Haru supplied, removing his helmet and shaking out his hair; the dark brown contrasted sharply with the white bandage still wound around his head. “Six month after the war ended the kings named you a priority – and that’s just the Earth Kingdom. I can only guess how long you’d been torturing the Fire Nation before the war ended.”

“Since I was eight,” Jet said sullenly, his eyes growing dark. “Since they killed my parents. Since they took my life away. Since they took away the life of every Earth Kingdom citizen.”

Haru nodded, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I can understand that. The Fire Nation invaded my village when I was very young. They took my father away and they refused to let me learn how to earthbend. They occupied my village and took all our money and overworked our people. I guess you could say they took my life away.” He trailed off and shrugged. “Funny thing is… I lived anyway.”

Jet looked unimpressed, and Haru turned to greet the lieutenants who had dropped from the trees and were approaching from behind. “Anyway, Jet. After four years of chasing you, we’ve found out a few things about you – although, how many of those are actually true we’ll never know, thanks to the former heir.” He scratched his head, fingers instinctively tugging at the bandage. “Incidentally, the Freedom Fighters aren’t the only ones who’ve learned how to use bird calls in the forest.”

A lieutenant stepped forward at that point, and Haru allowed to rock to drop long enough to drag Jet’s arms out from the casing so that he could be cuffed. “Jet of the Freedom Fighters, you are being arrested in connection with a whole slew of crimes against the Earth Kingdom, most recently the raiding of a government storehouse and the subsequent burning of the building and the adjacent village.”

“You’ll never convict me,” Jet hissed, even as the guards started to drag him forward.

Haru bit his lip and nodded. “You’re absolutely right Jet. You’ll never be convicted, because there won’t be a trial. You’re going to hang.”

_   
_

* * *

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cedant Arma Togae: Let Violence Give Way to Law


	17. Dum Spiro, Spero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our weary heroes finally make their escape from the swamp.

Everything stood still for a moment. Katara’s heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat. Even the flames that burned around her seemed to have ceased moving, remaining bright orange streaks in her vision as everything blurred and she hesitated, looking for Aang as the Avatars around her disappeared in the same white light that had heralded their arrival.

When she blinked, everything snapped back into its proper order, and everything began to happen fast.

“Aang?” she called, stepping cautiously towards the ring of flames where the spirit had just been standing. Her voice was so hoarse she wondered if it was actually carrying anywhere or if it was simply ringing in her own head, but that thought was dismissed a moment later when something – a dead branch maybe – fell from the great tree, momentarily parting the flames and giving her a glimpse of Aang standing beyond them.

_Please be Aang please be Aang please be Aang_

She stumbled towards him, desperate to get to him, to touch him and reassure herself that he was okay, that he was normal and that he was hers again – he _had_ to be, the Avatars would not have left otherwise.

When she approached him he had one hand up to the trunk of the tree, eyes shut as he focused. A shot of panic went through her and she seized him by the wrist, forcibly dragging his arm away from the tree. “Aang!”

His eyes slowly opened and he looked down at her, and for a moment a chill swept through her heart. This _was_ her Aang, but something was still wrong – the way he blinked at her, exhausted, with confusion clouding his grey eyes, it wasn’t right. “…Katara?”

“You can’t – don’t you remember what happened last time you tried this?” All the times he’d tried to connect to the swamp had led from one disaster to another. She couldn’t believe he’d try again, especially so soon after returning to his body.

Aang was still blinking blankly down at her. “Katara,” he repeated again, a thread of uncertainty weaving its way through his voice. “Katara?” The grip on his arm tightened, and she peered concernedly up at his face, only to have him shake his head and shrug off her hold.

“It’ll work this time,” he said, more confidence creeping its way into his voice. “We have to get out of here as quickly as possible – the swamp is destroying itself and we’ll be destroyed with it if we don’t find the way out.”

His hand drifted back up to the trunk of the tree, almost hesitantly. “Did you notice that only waterbenders had settled here? They were the only ones who could get around, who could figure out the passages.”

“Aang please-“ Didn’t he understand? She had nearly lost him again; she couldn’t let him do this. As she pleaded with him she raised another hand as if to grab at the one of his about to settle on the tree, but lightening fast his other hand swooped in and took hers firmly.

“It’s okay,” he said simply, releasing it. “Go help…” Aang’s voice trailed off and he gestured behind Katara. “Help…” He sounded so unsure, and Katara again found herself unnerved. “Go help Sokka.”

Katara wheeled around, and just as Aang had indicated, there was Sokka, favoring one leg as he balanced Toph in his arms. He gave her a bleak look as he shifted uncomfortably, and Katara couldn’t help blurting out, “What _happened_?!” in a horrified tone as she brought up water from a channel, already seeking to heal.

Toph was deathly pale in Sokka’s arms. She had dark circles under her eyes and she looked smaller than usual cradled in Sokka’s embrace, her breathing so shallow it was barely noticeable even to Katara’s trained eye.

“She – it – she was-“ Sokka struggled for words, shifting the girl in his arms so Katara could get a better look at her injuries. “Ty Lee said she should be okay but-“

Her hands lit up with a soothing blue glow as she healed some of the bruising around Toph’s throat in an effort to help her breathing. “They aren’t fatal injuries,” Katara sighed in relief before looking up at her brother. “What about you?”

He gestured down. “I got hit in the leg by a knife but-“ she was already crouched down and probing the wound before he could finish the sentence. Ignoring his hiss of pain, she let the warmth of her healing wrap around his leg, knitting the edges of the wound together. “We have to get out of here.”

“I know how.” When she turned, Aang again took her by the wrist, tugging her away from her brother and Toph. “I need your help.”

“Come on,” she called over her shoulder to her brother, and to her irritation she realized that he wasn’t even looking; he was turned away from her and Aang to look at somebody else. “Sokka!”

He still didn’t turn to look at her, and just as Katara was about to lose her temper and wrench her arm away from Aang, her brother shifted slightly on his feet, giving her a view of who was behind him.

Ty Lee was striding towards them, a grim look on her face, and right behind her was-

“Zuko!” Hot relief shot through her at the sight of the Fire Lord. He was pale and looked worse for the wear, his tunic singed beyond belief and soot mixed with sweat streaked over his face. He was holding on to Mai in a way that was similar to the hold Aang had on her, though Mai did not even appear to know what was gong on around her as she tried to break Zuko’s grip, shooting desperate looks over her shoulder.

Aang again tugged on her wrist, looking back long enough to see Zuko – she saw a quizzical expression quickly morphing into relief flash across his face – “We have to go! The swamp is destroying itself!”

Katara glanced back at her companions, her mind racing furiously as she studied them for immediate injuries – everyone except for Toph seemed to be moving all right; Zuko was swaying a little bit, but unless he collapsed-

Aang pulled on her wrist again. “Come on!”

Now confident that everyone who mattered was finally together, she followed Aang back to the water and away from the center, torn between hope for their escape and worry for him.

* * *

Slowly, Toph’s senses began to return to her.

It started with touch – the intense, all consuming, burning pain in her chest and neck had lightened, and though it still hurt, what she felt was not ever-tightening ropes but someone cradling her softly, arms locked around her as if she were some precious burden despite the fact that she was being jostled horribly.

After touch came smell – most overwhelming was the smell of smoke, clogging her nose and chest, but underneath that was the scent of boy-sweat and salt water that she’d come to associate with Sokka, and even farther underneath that was the bittersweet smell of the earth and rotten plants. She had no idea what was going on, but she could smell the earth, and she knew it was near, and for the moment, that was enough to comfort her.

Then her hearing returned, and even though she still felt sluggish, her limbs still unresponsive, Toph still tried to make herself to get up and move, get up and _help, the others must need help_ \- she could hear the roar of fire and the cracking of breaking wood as trees and branches groaned and fell over. She could hear the rushing of water around her, and above that all she could hear voices – first and foremost Sokka’s, and several other’s that sounded familiar but were still too vague for her to clearly process.

She didn’t care. They weren’t that one, that horrible, calm voice that she’d heard in her own head for so long, the one who’d tried to kill her for her own body –

_So that I may follow my master out of the swamp_ – that was what it had said to her. _Because I cannot take over a spirit like he can, even if I can take over a body_.

That’s what it had meant, before, when it had told her a life for a life. By saving hers – and by her refusal to sacrifice another – she had provided a form for this spirit to enter.

_Why me?_ she had wondered, mind shrieking and trying desperately to stay awake even as her body had begged for her to release it and let it rest, instinctively wanting the supposed safety of unconsciousness.

_Because we have the same connection to the earth. Because my master needs me_.

With a groan, Toph made an attempt to sit up – it was ineffectual at best, because her body was still barely responding to her – but it was enough for Sokka to tighten his grip around her and murmur something soothing that she couldn’t quite make out.

His movement has slowed, become jerkier, as if he were navigating through some great obstacle – her ears focused suddenly and she could hear the splashing of water. _We’re in water_, she realized, her foot skimming the surface. _Are we safe_?

She shuddered – Sokka’s arms tightened once again – and wondered if she would ever feel safe again. Toph had taken on earthbenders three times her size, helped in the one-hundred-year long war, taking on master firebenders and traveling far away from home at an age when most girls were just starting to let go of their mother’s skirts. Not once – not even when Aang had been at his most terrifying, in the Avatar state – had she ever feared for her life, feeling only the utmost confidence in both her abilities and the abilities of her adopted family.

_Aang_.

The memory of him in the Avatar state brought to mind an even more recent recollection – that terrible ripple that had gone through the ground just before she’d fought with Ty Lee; that awful moment when she could feel the earth becoming unbalanced. At first she had thought Aang had slipped into the Avatar State – something he hadn’t resorted to in years – but then she had realized that there was no sense of Aang or of the Avatars, at all; that it was something terribly powerful and purely evil where Aang once was. Sokka had described the Avatar State to her once – mentioned Aang’s glowing eyes and tattoos (“…he has _tattoos_?”) – and she wondered now how Sokka would describe this terrible thing to her later, if he got the chance, because she hadn’t been able to sense any part of Aang still standing where he’d once been.

_Master_.

_The master finally has his body, so that I can take mine_, it had whispered to her, and Toph’s mind, finally starting to clear a little bit as oxygen started flowing through her body properly, suddenly made the connection.

She struggled again in Sokka’s arms, just wanting him to slow down, wanting him to let her put a hand or a foot to the earth to understand what was going on, to see where Aang was or what had happened to him. Katara had been with Aang when he’d changed, and a chill swept through her body as she realized that Katara wouldn’t have had a chance of defeating him without help from _someone_.

Again, Sokka tightened his grip. “It’s okay, Toph,” she heard him say, even though his voice sounded ragged and she could hear his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

“Sokka?” She wanted to scream, she wanted to throw herself onto the ground and have it swallow her up, she was so ashamed of how weak her voice sounded, and how much effort it took to speak. “Where’re we?”

“We’re getting out of here,” he said shortly, and he slowed his gait and looked around – she could feel the pull of muscles in his chest as he craned his neck – and spoke to someone else. Toph only heard a muffled response, and curled two hands in Sokka’s shirt for leverage, trying to pull herself up.

“Who is that?” she demanded, and Sokka tensed.

“Toph now is not the time-“

“Where’s Aang and Katara? Who is that?”

Sokka’s voice was resigned, “Toph, that’s Ty Lee. Aang and Katara are just ahead of us –“ his voice sounded funny, and Toph thought something was still wrong that he wasn’t telling her “- and we have to get out of here because this place is coming down around us. Can’t you smell the smoke?”

She wriggled relentlessly in his arms until finally his arm dropped and her feet finally touched the ground, splashing up to her ankles in the sludgy water that Sokka ha paused in. Vibrations went out and returned, and though they were fuzzy she finally had a picture of what was going on – it was exactly as Sokka had said, with the exception of two others behind Ty Lee.

“You found Zuko-!” There was a loud cracking and a branch fell from above; Toph could feel the heat from the fire licking her back. Sokka squeaked and grabbed at her again.

“I can walk!” she snapped. This was only true in the loosest sense of the word; her feet were planted firm as anything but already her knees were shaking. Sokka wrapped an arm around her shoulders and bent closer, clearly intent on picking her up again. “I said I can walk!”

“Just shut up!” Sokka shot at her, frustration evident. “Just… just let me help you, for now, okay? I swear I’ll never talk about it again.” There was a distinct undercurrent of fear in his voice, and Toph found herself shocked enough to shut her mouth. Reaching out, she wrapped an arm around his neck and allowed him to pick her up.

“Let’s get out of here,” she murmured, the fight going out of her again, too tired to even curse her own weakness.

* * *

“What are you doing?!” Mai demanded, even as she tripped ungracefully through the muck and water they were traveling through. Zuko had a vice-like grip upon her arm and was forcefully dragging her away from the swamp’s center, away from the fight and the spreading fire and away from –

“I’m saving your life!” Zuko shouted at her, not even bothering to look back at her.

“We need to go back!” she insisted, tugging uselessly upon the grip he had her in. “Azula is still back there!”

The last thing she’d seen was Azula being dragged up into the trees, struggling uselessly against the binds. By the time Mai had gotten around the flames blocking her from her friend, she couldn’t even see her face anymore. Zuko had grabbed her then and dragged her away, despite the fact that Mai had been protesting with all her might.

“Azula is _gone_,” Zuko shouted, finally slowing and turning back towards her. His brows were drawn so close they were almost touching, but his eyes were wide and bright. He looked absolutely terrified. “We’ll be next if we _don’t get out of here_.”

“She’s not gone!” Mai protested, digging her heels in. “We just left her!”

Zuko froze. “…Mai,”

“I know _you_ want her dead, Zuko, but I _have_ to help her!”

Zuko’s shoulders stiffened noticeably at her words, but he said nothing, continuing to pull her along. The smoke was nearly overwhelming at this point; she’d lost sight of the waterbender clearing the path for them up ahead and she could only barely make out Ty Lee trailing after Sokka just ahead of her and Zuko.

“I said let me go!” she shrieked, whipping her other arm around and cuffing him soundly on the head. It was a mark of just how upset Mai had become that she’d forgotten completely about what knives still remained in her holsters – only one or two, but it would have been enough to force Zuko to release her.

He stumbled at the blow, nearly pulling her down with him, but at the last second managed to catch himself on the leg he wasn’t limping on. “I don’t want anyone dead,” he snarled, wheeling around to face her. “And if I recall correctly, you and Azula were chasing after _me_.”

The words skimmed past Mai. All she could think about were Azula’s glittering eyes sliding closed as she ran to help, about how unnatural it felt to run ahead of Azula when she’d spent so much of her life following her.

“I can’t just leave her.” It came out almost as a whimper, and she wasn’t even sure that Zuko had heard her words. He stood there, gazing steadily at her, seemingly unsure of how to coax her away from the scene.

Mai eyes traveled over Zuko’s shoulders to where Ty Lee was keeping up with Sokka, helping him with the earthbender, and Mai felt a tiny seed of betrayal take root in her stomach. Ty Lee was running away so easily – she knew Azula was gone, the acrobat had _heard_ Zuko yelling, Mai had _seen_ how Ty Lee’s eyes had widened and then softened.

How could she turn away so easily?

With a groan two trees finally collapsed under the pressure of the spreading flames. Zuko easily stepped past her and directed the flames away from the pair, but when he turned back to Mai his face was grim.

“This place is coming down around us,” he said seriously, once again putting a hand on her arm. “Let’s just get out of here. We can’t save Azula.”

“So we’re just going to save ourselves?!” she shrieked at him, voice rising and going shrill. If she’d been in her right state of mind she would have been mortified, but at the moment all she could think of was Azula’s death and Ty Lee’s indifference and Zuko’s apparent concern.

“You would just sacrifice yourself for no reason?” Zuko shot right back at her. “You can’t go back. You’ll die.”

“But Azula-“

“Azula is dead, Mai! She wouldn’t let me help her. Are you honestly going to do the same?”

It didn’t feel right. It went against everything she believed in – she would never leave behind Azula, they had stuck together through _everything_.

She squinted up ahead through the smoke. Why wasn’t Ty Lee helping her?

“I- I can’t,” she murmured, trying to pull away from him. His hold remained strong.

“I’m not leaving you behind,” he growled at her, his eyes narrowing.

“You left her behind!” Mai shouted, pulling more violently this time and hitting him again when he still refused to release her.

“I had to! She wouldn’t let me help her!” Zuko was getting angry now; two bright splotches of red were standing out on his pale cheeks, showing even through the soot that streaked his face.

“I don’t want your help either!” she announced, continuing to hit him with her free hand.

“I’m not giving you that choice!” Zuko bellowed, withstanding her barrage to tighten her grip and yank her even closer to him.

She looked up at him in shock, amazed by his bold statement, and was struck by what she could suddenly see shining clearly in his face: _guilt_. Azula had been a thorn in his side for years upon years, and he truly had not wished death on her. He wasn’t happy to see her dead.

He didn’t want anyone else to die.

“We need to get out of here,” he repeated, squinting ahead of them to catch sight of Sokka and Ty Lee again. Aang and Katara were a distant vision at this point, but as long as he could see Sokka and Ty Lee he knew they were on the right path. “Once we get out of here, you can do whatever you want. You can come back in here and search for Azula; I don’t care. But at least get out of here first so you can decide for yourself what you want to do for once.”

His voice sounded so calm in all the chaos that surrounded them. Mai wondered exactly how he had gained the ability to strike her mute – she had always reveled in silence, but she was never quiet for lack of words; merely lack of interest.

“You can let go of me now,” she told him solemnly. He glanced up at her, studying her face to see if she was going to bolt the second he released her.

He dropped her arm.

* * *

Sokka shifted Toph in his arms and picked up his pace, trying to catch up with Katara and Aang a little bit even as his feet threatened to be swallowed in the muck they were traipsing through. He’d been hoping they could outrun the flames a little bit, that the channels of water would provide natural fire breaks, but it appeared that even as they worked their way out from the center of the swamp the flames were following at a nearly impossible pace, traveling along the canopy above them, filling everything with smoke and making it impossible to breathe.

Toph’s fight had been short lived – her breathing was already shallow and her eyes had drooped low again, and Sokka wondered just how lucid she was, just how much she was aware of, if she even really understood what was going on outside of Sokka’s attempted aid and the perceived insult to her pride.

Despite it all, even though there were so many differences from before, even though he’d been through so much more since then, even though he’d become so much stronger and had _truly_ become a warrior, even going to war in the Fire Nation itself, suddenly Sokka thought he was ten years old again, clutching Katara’s hand as he ran as fast as he could through black, knee deep snow back home in the South Pole.

Katara had fought with him then too, even after their father had ordered them to run, wanting to stay with their mother – Sokka wanted their mother too, but he hadn’t seen her since the raid had started and he’d had no idea how to find her and anyway, his father had ordered him to protect Katara first and foremost. So they’d run, him dragging her along each agonizing step.

Fire had born down on them the same way, too, as they’d raced out of the circle of their village and headed for the desperate safety of the icy coves nearby. It had seemed like it had been around him all at once; everything had been burning, all the tents and their clothes and their stores – it was all gone in a smoky mess that had lit orange against what white snow remained, to swallowed up by the sooty snow that lay everywhere else.

There had been that same desperation as well – there was no hope fighting, he could be of no help. All he could do was run away, trying to protect the ones he loved (even if he had been no good at that, he noted, sparing another glance down at Toph’s pale form) as they fled.

He’d been through so much since then – traveling to the North Pole and losing Yue (who’d been so determined to sacrifice herself, even if he’d wanted to grab her away, moon spirit be damned) and battling through the Earth Kingdom and into the Fire Nation itself – and only twice in his life had he been in this situation, where there was no hope fighting and all they could do was run blindly.

That feeling of helplessness was not one he was comfortable with – all Sokka had ever desired, since he was a little child, was to be a strong warrior and to protect those he cared about. He’d done his part – trained and studied (and trained some more once he’d been pulled down a peg or two on Kyoshi…) and it didn’t seem fair to him that the choice to protect should be taken out of his hands by the Fire Nation, or by the spirits, or by the swamp.

He tripped suddenly and tightened his grip on Toph as he stumbled forward, barely keeping his balance with the help of Ty Lee’s lightening fast catch on the back of his shirt.

_The choice to protect_.

There never really was much of a choice though, was there? Not for him. It had always meant everything to him; to protect those he cared about – instinct, second nature. He’d never chosen to do it.

And if there had never been a choice in the first place, then what was being taken away from him? He either had control in a situation, or he didn’t.

_The choice to adapt. The choice to cope_.

The problem was that he’d been focusing on the wrong aspect. When the option of protection was taken away, then Sokka had to learn to live with it as best he could, to give what aid he could.

He shifted Toph in his arms again, feeling a cramp developing in his shoulder. He hadn’t been able to protect her, _that_ had been taken away from him, but the choice to help her hadn’t.

He could adapt.

* * *

His leg protested with every single step he took. Zuko didn’t know what he had done to his knee, but he knew it wouldn’t be much longer until the leg gave out completely. It felt like they had been running for hours, trying to get out of the swamp. Katara and Aang had been leading confidently the whole way, making him wonder exactly what had changed, how they’d figured out the swamp when it was clear that they’d all been struggling as they had wandered through it.

It couldn’t have been much farther now – the fire was trailing them, just barely, and though the smoke still permeated everything around them he was closer to getting a clear breath than he’d been in three full days.

Thankfully, Mai had given him something to focus on, keeping his injuries from becoming overwhelming. She’d promised not to run back after Azula, but still he was nervous for her. He’d still had to fight the urge to run back to the center himself, just to counter the _sheer wrongness_ he felt at leaving a living human behind as he ran, and Azula was nothing to _him_ compared to how Mai had cared for her.

Azula had never been anything but a threat to him. She had been born his sister, and _could_ have – should have – been one of his closest allies. Even after he’d beaten her down and taken the throne, he would have been perfectly happy never facing her again.

He’d have never wished death upon her – nobody deserved death; he believed that firmly: not after the way he had struggled to live. Many people had thought, after the war, that he’d be hungry for her blood, but that wasn’t the case. He didn’t want to be like his father or his sister, and wielding the same power of life over her that she’d attempted to hang over him didn’t seem right.

Sneaking another glance at Mai out of the corner of his eye, Zuko again debated what to do with her when they finally got out of there. When he’d pulled Mai away, he just hadn’t wanted to lose another life pointlessly, but that didn’t change the fact that it was Mai. She was someone who had hunted him. She had been on her way to Omashu to kill him. Even if he harbored the suspicion that she herself couldn’t have gone through such a thing even with all her cool detachment, he had no doubt that she wouldn’t have stopped Azula in the end.

Which put him in a strange position.

She was pale, with dark rings under her eyes, and though she wasn’t crying her eyes were watery and she appeared to be dangerously close to tears. He’d witnessed how Azula had thrown fire at Mai just as easily as she had at himself, and he could only imagine what they had gone through in exile together, all because of Azula. He couldn’t believe that after everything Azula had just put them through that Mai could mourn the girl so deeply. Shouldn’t Mai be relieved? Had all her help when he’d been injured really just been to deliver her to Azula? Just how much of her had been Azula’s doing?

His head was starting to hurt. Mai’s motivations for anything were a secret to everyone but herself, and it was none of his business to question them. It was only his to defend himself when they crossed paths, and with Azula gone he knew it would no longer be an issue.

He was disturbed from his thoughts when Ty Lee and Sokka suddenly appeared in close range again, forcing him and Mai to skid to a rather abrupt stop. Aang and Katara were standing at the head of a now dry river bed, standing almost lamely for all the chaos and confusion behind him. Sokka’s face mirrored the same blank surprise that was on the pair’s face.

“This is where we came in,” Aang said slowly, looking around as if to confirm his statement. “Remember?”

“Who cares, we’re out!” Sokka announced, quickly recovering and pushing through Aang and Katara to walk out into the clearing, searching for a place to lay Toph down.

Zuko turned to look back into the swamp – he could still hear the fire, still hear the roaring and the crackling and, if he listened very carefully, something else, something high-pitched and shrieking, barely carrying over the deafening sounds of the swamp’s destruction.

Ty Lee’s face was pinched, and she looked almost nauseated, if still calm. Mai, on the other hand, looked shaken in a way he’d never seen and could never have predicted: her eyes were wide and wild, her cheeks flushed red and her jaw quivering. Even though she’d been his enemy, he still felt a stab of guilt at her countenance: she’d lost someone important to her, and he could have prevented it.

Tearing his eyes away from the pair, he focused on the swamp that had been their prison, and while eloquence had certainly never been a natural talent of his, he found words bubbling up out of nowhere.

“You know,” he said, almost conversationally, still not looking at the pair. “Fire and destruction walk hand-in-hand, and even as Agni is worshipped as the god of both, most firebenders, even the truly educated ones, forget that Agni is responsible for more than that.”

He raised his eyes to the girls now; Mai was standing close to Ty Lee, behind her and looking blearily up at the sky, as if looking for Agni himself, looking for an explanation. Ty Lee was blinking at him curiously.

“Destruction brings about rebuilding,” Zuko said simply. “It’s a cycle. There must be devastation before rebirth.”

Mai still did not respond, but Ty Lee looked at him, into the fire, and back at him before nodding slowly, showing she understood that he wasn’t just talking about the swamp behind them.

_   
_

* * *

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dum Spiro, Spero: While I Breathe, I Hope


	18. Faber Quisque Fortunae Suae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ty Lee wonders what to do now, Aang adjusts to being back in his body, and a welcome ally provides some much needed aid

As the afternoon faded into dusk, Bumi felt the sheer adrenaline and stubbornness that had been keeping him going finally ebb away, and for the first time in a long time, he actually felt every month of his one hundred and fifteen years.

The general at the 17th’s base had given up his room to Bumi, and after a small dinner he’d requested that the Fire Nation soldier that Bao had gotten hold of join him in his chamber. Cai was no prisoner – Bumi had made that perfectly clear, but the poor man had still been nervous all through the meal and Bumi wanted to both reassure Cai and confirm some of his suspicions.

So now he had this poor man sitting, shaking, in front of him, and all Bumi could really think about was his own heir and how Bao had gotten away with everything for so long, right under his nose.

There was a fresh pot of coffee on the table – Cai had declined a cup – and Bumi sloshed his around in his mug thoughtfully, mentally picking through his years with Bao and wondering what signs he had missed.

He couldn’t have known when he’d found him that Bao was a war orphan. There were tons of war orphans, and only a fraction of them had ended up in Jet’s network. And though Bumi had scrutinized him carefully when choosing his heir, he had seemed a quiet, studious young man. He had worked hard, he had trained hard, and he was the only young earthbender on court who hadn’t promptly started sucking up the moment it had become known that Bumi was seeking to name his heir once and for all.

Even when Bumi had chosen him, Bao hadn’t seemed too excited – there was eagerness there, certainly, and relief that he’d get a chance that not many got, but he had accepted it humbly, with grace. He’d even refused a celebratory drink, and Bumi had been forced to spike the punch at the small gathering they’d thrown together in honor of his new heir.

What had been the main reason Bumi had selected him? His ability to make others believe what he believed. A useful quality in a leader – or a traitor.

“And he was always so polite to Lord Zuko…” Bumi didn’t realize he had spoken out loud until the man across from him stiffened and sagged forward, gripping the edges of the table.

“You have news of Lord Zuko?” Cai gasped, his eyes wide.

Bumi turned to look at him, at the way he was grasping the table, and suddenly realized that the rumbling sound he was hearing was not in his head but caused by his foot tapping on the floor. It was a habit he only slipped into when in deep thought, but every time his foot hit several ceramic tiles would pop out of the floor before settling back into place.

He looked down. That explained how his coffee had gotten down the front of his robes as well.

“No recent news,” Bumi finally answered reluctantly. Cai slumped back into his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily.

“I don’t know how I’m going to explain all this to General Iroh… Oh no!” He slapped his forehead. “That earthbender took my pack! I had a letter to you from General Iroh.”

Bumi perked up at these words. He had assumed that the firebender sitting across from him was a merchant or a trader, some poor soul that Bao had snagged from one of the ports. “Do you mean to say that you report directly to General Iroh yourself?”

“To _Lord Zuko_ himself, when his crazy sister isn’t doing Agni-knows-what with him.” Cai half-groaned, still in disbelief of his dumb luck.

_The sister_. Bumi had forgotten about that particular wild card. Could she really command that type of respect still, to orchestrate the kidnapping of the Avatar, the Fire Lord, and their companions? Apparently General Iroh and the rest of the Fire Lord’s advisors thought so.

“Huh.” Bumi snorted, reaching for the coffee pot again. “Normally you diplomats are a bit more outgoing.”

Cai was silent in response, and finally Bumi took pity on the poor man. “You’ll stay with my entourage until we get back to Omashu. It’s probably safer with us anyway, and once we reach there we can regroup and figure out what kind of search parties we can send out.”

“General Iroh told me to find the bounty hunter woman, but she sold me out instead,” Cai murmured lowly, eyes still shut tightly behind his hand, as if he were hoping to make it all go away and find himself back home in the Fire Nation again.

“Jun?” Bumi asked, surprised. Cai nodded, and Bumi’s mouth dropped open in jealously. “You lucky demon! Did you get to ride the shirshu? I always wanted to, I figured after Flopsie…” Cai turned a dangerous shade of green and Bumi trailed off.

Silence reigned for a few moments; Cai certainly didn’t seem inclined to fill the space and Bumi’s mind started to wander again, foot again tapping out an irregular beat against the jumping tiles of the floor.

The quiet was finally broken by the sound of feet clapping against the stone and the door to Bumi’s chamber bursting open. Cai jumped so high he nearly fell out of his chair, but Bumi merely craned a head back to see what was so important that they couldn’t even knock.

A guard stood in the doorway, panting and leaning against the frame. “King Bumi, sir! There’s been a report of a great cloud of smoke rising from the west!”

* * *

Ty Lee watched with interest as their little group walked further out into the clearing, trying to get away from the smoke and the still spreading flames. When they finally decided it was safe enough to rest, Sokka dropped to his knees so that Katara could finish healing Toph – Ty Lee was always fascinated with the waterbender’s healing ability. The way it interacted and changed the flow of chi was simply mesmerizing - and it took her a moment to notice that she and the airbender were the only ones still on their feet.

The Avatar was walking in a wide circle, blowing on a bison-shaped whistle and calling loudly for Appa. Zuko had walked over to Sokka and Katara to check on Toph, while Mai had sat down, nearly curling up on herself as she turned her back to the group and watched the burning swamp.

For a moment Ty Lee’s chest ached – Azula would know what to do, Azula would be taking control right now, Azula would have had this figured out in an instant and then they would be moving again – and then with a sigh she settled down next to her friend.

“Mai?” There was no response. Ty Lee wasn’t surprised. Even when they had fought in the war and been sent into exile, they’d still had each other at least. This was probably Mai’s first true experience with grief. Ty Lee thought of Azula, and understood the grief – she felt longing for her friend and missed her, but underneath it all was a strong current of resignation. There were only two ways it could have gone for Azula, and her path had become increasingly clear when they had gone into the swamp.

Still…

Ty Lee reached out a tentative hand to put on Mai’s shoulder. Her chi was angrily pulsing a blood red, and the acrobat wasn’t surprised when Mai violently shook off her hand, refusing to make eye contact. Not wanting to press her, Ty Lee simply sat in silence, offering support if Mai wanted, and pondered their future.

Would Zuko try to arrest them? Or had something happened between him and Mai when the pair had disappeared amongst all the flames? He was known for being humble and merciful – it was those qualities that Azula had always complained about, claiming that there was no need for a nation’s leader to be humble.

Maybe she and Mai should try to run now, while everyone was distracted. She turned her head, silently watching the group behind her – Zuko and Aang were talking in low tones, and Katara was still healing Toph, who was starting to appear a bit more lucid – and rejected the idea. It didn’t seem right. When she had run into Sokka before he’d been defensive, but had dropped the act quickly. She didn’t think any of the group was out for blood, even with the trouble she’d helped Azula cause. All they really wanted was peace.

It didn’t make her and Mai’s future any clearer, however, and as Ty Lee studied her friend out of the corner of her eye she wondered if it was going to be a return to those awful weeks after their initial exile, when Azula had been physically sick with defeat. She’d put one broken friend back together before, but could she do it again, with no help?

Ty Lee didn’t really want to. She’d never abandon Mai – _never_, not after everything they had been through; the girl was more family to her than any person sharing her blood – but she wanted Mai to actually look, to pay attention to what had happened, what was still happening. Ty Lee missed Azula desperately – there was no doubt that if Azula had been there all three of them would know exactly where they were going and what they were going there for – but her ending was the one that Ty Lee had foreseen and feared long ago. Hadn’t Mai seen the way Azula had totally lost control? There was no coming back from that, and as much as Ty Lee mourned for her friend, she was equally afraid of what the future could have held if Azula had defeated Zuko, if they had all gotten out of the swamp.

But she hadn’t, and they hadn’t, and now Ty Lee faced the decision of having to make her own path after the person who’d forged it for her for so long was now gone.

She had experienced a similar feeling the night so long ago that she had slipped out the bedroom window and snuck to port, looking for the circus that had been calling to her for so long – that shaking feeling of half-terror and half-exultation, that excitement that she had chosen it for herself, that she wanted it.

It wasn’t that she had minded traveling with Azula – she was family, and what Azula wanted Ty Lee wanted for her. She had loved knowing she was an asset to Azula, even if every so often Ty Lee’s mind wandered back to that starry night and how fresh and crisp everything had seemed in the knowledge that she was on the path she had decided was best for her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching from behind, and a moment later Zuko had moved into her field of vision. Ty Lee tilted her head far back to look up at him – there was something almost holy about him, the way he stood silhouetted against the orange flames dancing far behind him, his bright blue aura beating nervously in time with his heart, and Ty Lee found herself speechless for a moment, which Zuko took as an invitation to speak.

“We’re going to head north,” he said, “and once we get to some little village where we can settle down and find out what’s going on and what’s happened to Appa and I can get a messenger to my uncle, you two can do whatever you want.”

Mai said nothing, and as Ty Lee was nodding he spoke up again:

“I have a boat in port outside of Omashu. Technically both of you are still wanted by the Fire Nation.” He paused, and Ty Lee could see him shifting his weight from foot to foot, a movement that would have been imperceptible if not for the way his knee was still buckling. Ty Lee found herself wondering why he hadn’t asked Katara to heal it yet. “I don’t believe either one of you are a danger to the Fire Nation or any of its royal family anymore.”

Ty Lee stiffened in shock – next to her, Mai finally seemed to notice what he was saying and was now watching the Fire Lord though swollen eyelids.

“You have a choice – I’ll lift the warrant on both of you, and I’ll give you this one chance: you can return to the Fire Nation with me. If you don’t want to then… then you should probably stay here in the Earth Kingdom permanently.”

His message was clear: Lord Zuko no longer believed either one of them to be a threat to his throne now that Azula was gone, but that didn’t mean they were forgiven, that their sins were forgotten. If they went back with him then it would be easier for him to keep a track of them.

Ty Lee found herself vaguely repulsed by the idea of returning to the Fire Nation, though she didn’t know why. When she opened her mouth – though what she was going to say she had no idea – Zuko just raised a hand, silently ordering her to be quiet. “You don’t have to tell me now,” he said, almost gently. “Think about it.”

And then he walked away again, leaving Ty Lee to once again ponder her future.

* * *

His second trip on the ostrich-horse was no more enjoyable than his first. At least he didn’t have to share this time, he thought ruefully, clutching to the reigns as hard as he could as he rode alongside King Bumi as they raced through the Earth Kingdom countryside towards the ever-rising cloud of smoke.

When the aid had burst into the room and announced that the country was burning, both had immediately jumped up. Bumi had ordered his entourage and the 17th infantry to prepare to move, and then turned to Cai and ordered him to come as well.

“If there’s trouble with firebenders, then one of Lord Zuko’s advisors should be able to calm his own citizens,” he had announced, gesturing for Cai to follow him as they raced to the stables, handing Cai the reigns to his own ostrich-horse and not even looking back as the old king mounted and took off. The infantry had been scrambling to catch up.

It was almost remarkable to watch: he’d heard Lord Zuko complaining about the old king several times before, most often using phrases like “batty old fruity-dressing son-of-a-“ and “too many rocks in his head,” and once, when they were discussing the upcoming peace conference between the nations, the easily-distracted Avatar had gone off topic and regaled Lord Zuko and his advisors about Bumi and his three deadly challenges, which, though Aang had laughed, had unnerved Cai. Imagine if Lord Zuko had demanded something like that from them – he’d have been labeled crazier than Ozai and thrown into the dungeons with his arms tied firmly at his sides.

Cai couldn’t believe he was watching a one-hundred-and-fifteen-year old man. The king was easily outpacing the rank – much to the colonel’s chagrin, as it would make him look bad if anything happened to the king while traveling with _his_ infantry – and if what Bumi had told him was correct, he’d made the trip halfway across the Earth Kingdom without rest in only a couple of days.

He wondered where he would have been right now, without the help of the old king, and shivered, desperately glad for Bumi’s presence, even if he was a little odd and made Cai feel distinctly unsettled. Then he wondered if Lord Zuko would ever believe him if he told him what had happened – probably not, though General Iroh was sure to, and most certainly Avatar Aang as well.

Eyeing the great cloud of black smoke rising in front of him, Cai apprehensively wondered what had happened now, who had caused the Earth Kingdom to burn yet again, and whether or not it truly was the fault of the Fire Nation or one of its citizens. There was no one else to act as a representative of the Fire Nation, and the knowledge that he had no Lord to confirm his words and actions only made him feel like a pale and cheap imposter, an imitation of Lord Zuko who was sure to be caught and bound and punished for his transgression of acting in the name of his nation.

It made his encounter with the traitorous heir even more shocking – that Bao had been willing to act so outrageously and use the king’s name as justification – he could not believe anyone would have such nerve.

A scout Bumi had sent ahead chose that moment to return, his ostrich-horse running full speed as he approached the ranks. “King Bumi, sir! The area that’s burning was uninhabited – it’s just a piece of old swamp land the natives ignore.”

Bumi frowned, and Cai mirrored the action, each wondering the same thing: What was the importance of an old piece of swamp, and why would anyone feel the need to set it alight? Cai’s thoughts, as a firebender, went even further: how could a piece of land that was so naturally damp with water and rotten wood possibly burn out of control?

He was pondering the possibility of the buildup of dangerous gas when the scout continued: “There’s evidence of human life in the clearing surrounding the swamp – a lot of footprints. It looks like a small group, heading north on foot.”

Bumi scratched his head. “Is the fire spreading?”

“No sir – the surrounding clearing is bone dry too, but it appears to have naturally broken at the edge of the swampland.”

Cai’s frown deepened, but Bumi merely shrugged and announced that they would pursue the group traveling north. The old king made eye contact, and Cai couldn’t help asking, “Do you think they’re the ones responsible for this?”

King Bumi shrugged again before musing, “They could be a group of survivors who need help. Either way, we’ll track them down.”

Cai nodded and turned his attention back to the moving group who were now slowly altering their course. Secretly, he was glad to be heading away from the fire – the more he looked at it, the more unnerving it was. There was something unnatural about it.

* * *

Their traveling was slow going. Toph had fought her way out of Sokka’s arms and was now claiming she felt fine, thanks to Katara, but no one wanted to push her too hard yet, knowing that even despite Katara’s help she couldn’t be completely healed. Mai and Ty Lee were bringing up the rear, with Zuko walking alone as some kind of strange honor guard between both groups – he didn’t seem to want to talk to anyone from either one, even though Aang and Katara had both informed him of the circumstances of his kidnapping into the swamp.

Katara had actually done most of the talking. Aang was having a hard time focusing on everything – ever since he’d gotten his body back, he’d been having trouble thinking straight. The Avatars, particularly Roku, were no longer comforting images in his subconscious, to be visited or sought in dreams; no, now they were all at the forefront of his mind, all demanding his attention at once, as if his mind had been split a thousand different ways and each piece had been claimed by a different avatar. Once or twice when he had spoken, he hadn’t even been sure it was _his_ voice he was hearing.

It wasn’t just in his head either – even now as he watched his friends, things were changing right before his eyes. Sokka’s dark skin lightened, or Toph suddenly seemed taller, or Zuko’s gruff voice sweetened into something higher-pitched, and before he could even blink again it would be corrected, morphing back into what was familiar and warm to him.

_It makes sense, doesn’t it?_ A voice demanded in his head, and Aang’s mind automatically filled in the details: _Avatar Junjie, earthbender. The Avatar has had companions of all races and genders and bending abilities._

It was worst of all with Katara. He knew she could tell something was wrong, that she was concerned and slightly hurt by his detachment from her, but every time he looked at her-

Her hair was long, her hair was short, it was deepest black or the lightest brown, or it was loose over her shoulders instead of pulled back properly. Her eyes narrowed, or turned brown, or amber – though each set was creased the same way, glittering with worry for him. Her stature would change – she would grow taller or shorter, her shoulders broadening or her hips curving. Her name was Lifen, his name was Ru, her name was Meilin, and they were _all_ Katara, watching him and walking beside him.

Even the landscape around him shifted and changed at will – the creek dried and refilled and great trees turned back into wilting saplings before his very eyes – and when it finally became too much he closed his eyes, silently demanding an explanation for what was happening. The chaos in his head actually quieted for a moment, as if he were taking a long pause to think, and then he felt a cool hand touch his, as if wanting permission to take hold but afraid to ask.

“…Aang?” Katara’s soothing voice reached him, but when he turned to look at her she again did not look right. After a moment the amber eyes blinking at him widened and turned blue. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Aang wanted to laugh at the question, and instead shrugged, pulling his shoulders up and his hand away from hers. It didn’t seem right to touch her when he didn’t even recognize her.

“Someone’s coming,” Toph announced suddenly, stopping so she could crouch and put a hand to the earth, trying to see as far as she could. “They’re heading right towards us.”

Aang turned on the spot, Zuko pausing as well to look back and see who was approaching. Looking back and squinting, he could easily see a large group heading towards them, and riding at the front, feathered headdress flying higher than any banner, was-

“…Bumi?” Aang rubbed his eyes and looked again.

“It looks like he brought a whole infantry with him,” Toph said, her eyes still closed as she focused.

Ten minutes, an air scooter and one scout later found Aang face-to-face with his old friend.

“You look terrible,” Bumi said frankly, giving him a once over after he’d slipped out of his saddle. “Where have you been?”

It was taking every single bit of Aang’s concentration to keep his mind on Bumi’s words. The man standing in front of him was his old friend – his oldest on the planet, actually – but he was also an Earth King, and how many Earth Kings had there been before him? Without prompting his mind started rattling them off: King Hijiro and Queen Asuka and King Isao – the Avatar had always worked closely with the nation’s leaders. He’d known many Earth Kings and he would know many more once this life was over and done.

Silently, Aang pointed back at the burning swamp, hoping Bumi wouldn’t ask too many questions. Next to him, Zuko was in rapid conversation with Cai, having nearly tackled the man to demand information on General Iroh-

“He’s fine, sir. He’s the one that sent me here.”

Aang’s head snapped to look at the young man at these words. Zuko’s face mirrored the same look of shock he knew had to be on his own face.

“You – you can’t mean-“ Aang’s stare moved to Zuko, nearly numb with disbelief. It had all been for nothing?!

“I received word!” Zuko’s tone was harsh, and Aang knew he was close to losing his temper. “I received a sealed document to my room-“

At those words Bumi turned away to return to his entourage, rooting through one of the bags a guard had been carrying. When he came back to the trio, he was holding a piece of parchment in hand, tightly rolled up, the red wax seal still showing.

“This was found in your room the morning you left,” Bumi informed him, offering the message to Zuko. “You left most of your personal affects there. I think the maid staff was quite put out.”

Zuko blinked dumbly down at the parchment, and as his voice grew harsher and louder while he tried to comprehend what had been presented to him, Bumi nudged Aang in the side.

“Glad I didn’t open it. I was sorely tempted to when we first started looking for you.” The old king’s tone was nonchalant, but Aang could see the toll that their days in the swamp had cost him – the Avatar didn’t even want to think about how much work was waiting for him in the chaos that their disappearance had to have caused.

Aang rewarded Bumi with a wry look and a half-smile. “I supposed Bao talked you out of it?” Then, looking over Bumi’s entourage once again, added, “Hey, where is Bao anyway?”

* * *

Bao’s cell was exactly six paces long. He knew this because he’d counted those six long paces out an untold number of times in the afternoon and evening that he’d spent in the cell. Despite the fact that he was exhausted, it was even more frustrating to lay down – every time he stretched out on the tiny cot in the corner of the cell, Bao started to wonder what Jet was doing and where the Freedom Fighters were and how exactly Bumi had figured out what was going on and how long it would take Jet to break him out. Even more frustrating was how close he was to earth – he could hear it whispering, calling to him from under the metal plating that coated his cell, and it made his fingers twitch every time he settled long enough to actually sense it.

The dungeons in the lower levels of the 17th infantry’s headquarters had been unusually busy that day – not that Bao had spent much time in dungeons in general, having moved directly from Freedom Fighter tree houses to the court of Omashu, but it seemed unusual to him that guards were constantly patrolling through, and he’d heard more than one cell opening multiple times during the day. The guards had only exchanged a few words between each other as well, and the whole atmosphere was just adding anxiety to Bao’s mounting frustration.

The doorway squealed open again, and this time there was a commotion going on. Bao pressed his face up against the bars of the cell to see what was going on now, and couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw two guards half-carrying a flailing and kicking Jet down the hallway.

Bao’s jaw dropped. There were many things he’d seen in his lifetime, but nothing shocked him the way the sight of Jet in handcuffs had. He watched as they dragged the squalling Freedom Fighter down the hallway, pulling open the cell door directly to Bao’s right, shoving Jet inside and slamming the door with a loud clang and leaving again, ignoring Bao’s gape and giving the two earthbenders standing guard at the entrance a nod as they left again.

Once the guards left Jet quieted, and Bao placed his ear against the wall separating them before knocking once, twice, and calling his name quietly. “…Jet?”

There was silence, and then a dull thunk as Jet’s head hit the wall.

“Jet, it’s me, it’s Bao.” There was no point in whispering, even with the guards standing at the end of the hallway.

There was another pause, and then Jet’s voice carried across, an incredulous tone in it: “What are you doing here?”

“Old Man Bumi stuck me in here. How’d they get you?”

Another pause, and then Jet made the connection that Bao had been afraid of. “I was arrested by that Colonel in the 21st. The one I wanted to kill.”

“Shh-!” Bao rushed to hush him, and not just because he wanted to avoid a guilt trip on Jet’s part. “Don’t admit something like that out loud! They’ll use it against you in court.”

“I don’t care,” Jet shot back. “I won’t be going to court either way.”

Bao said nothing, well aware of what was on the arrest warrant for Jet: _dead or alive_. He himself had helped draw up a draft of the warrant. The Earth Kingdom was desperate for peace and eager to show that they had little patience with those who threatened it.

“I tried to signal the other Fighters when they arrested me but-“ Jet abruptly cut himself off, and Bao listened for an anxious moment before realizing that the quiet voice filtering through the walls did not belong to Jet but to-

“They got all of us?!” Jet suddenly bellowed next to him, and Bao’s jaw dropped yet again at the news. “That’s impossible!”

Things suddenly clicked in Bao’s head – Jet had said that he’d tried to signal them. The Earth Army knew Jet communicated through bird whistles. They had rounded up all the Freedom Fighters and attacked Jet when he was alone and at his most vulnerable.

And all because Bao couldn’t bring himself to take the life of a fellow earthbender.

It seemed so trivial now. He’d never agreed with Jet’s belief that sometimes the innocent had to die – at least, not as far as innocent Earth Kingdom citizens. Bao had been more than willing to throw that firebender’s life away, for the greater good of the Earth Kingdom. And now, looking back on that night, would it have been so hard to simply kill the Colonel?

The entire situation disturbed Bao – how disappointed he was in leading the Army right to Jet when he’d been trying to help, how willing he suddenly found himself to set aside his principles, how slightly guilty he felt, both for the fact that he did not kill the colonel and the fact that he now wished he had. On top of it all, the most overwhelming of his disturbing emotions, was how resigned he suddenly felt. He’d worked his whole life, both under Jet and under Bumi, and this was what it had all come to?

“It’s over, Jet,” he murmured, not even sure if the rebel could hear him through the walls. “It’s really over this time.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Faber Quisque Fortunae Suae – Each Man Makes his Own Fortune


	19. Animus Facit Nobilem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara suddenly gets it, tension rises between Mai and Ty Lee, and Aang attempts to set things right

Katara had been desperately grateful for the timely arrival of Bumi – she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d have been able to handle walking in their tiny group, wondering what was wrong with Aang. Bumi and his entourage had given him a tiny spark; he was slowly becoming more lucid, focusing again on the task of being the Avatar, riding along side Bumi and discussing what had happened in their absence, slightly ahead of the pack.

Katara rode behind them, keeping an eye on Aang and on the people around her. Sokka and Toph were sharing an ostrich horse next to her – she suspected that Toph would have preferred keeping up on her own, as the earthbender generally hated being carried because she couldn’t see, but Sokka had asked her to join him and Toph had allowed him to pull her up into the saddle without a fight. She was making up for it by being extra obnoxious, talking about everything from the comfort of the ostrich horse’s saddle to Sokka’s stench, but she wasn’t squirming, and Sokka certainly didn’t seem to mind, so a slightly amused Katara merely kept her eye on them.

Right behind her rode Zuko, sharing an ostrich horse with Mai. Zuko was sitting up straight, and Katara couldn’t tell if the grimace on his face was from his close proximity to the knife thrower or due to discomfort from his posture. He still hadn’t let her heal his knee either – Katara had seen the way he favored the other leg, and he’d had a hard time mounting the horse because of it, but he hadn’t asked for her help and Katara hadn’t felt comfortable enough to offer it. Zuko could be notoriously proud when he wanted, and the circumstances surrounding his separation from the group clearly still weighed heavily on him.

The only one who looked more uncomfortable with the riding arrangements than Zuko was Cai, who was sharing a saddle with a pensive looking Ty Lee. The advisor, once he’d laid eyes on Ty Lee and Mai, had wanted to handcuff the pair, but Zuko had refused without further explanation, and Katara had seen the confusion and distress written all over his advisor’s face. Katara couldn’t blame him – Ty Lee’s skills in blocking chi and disabling bending powers were renowned throughout the world, and she didn’t like the idea of having the acrobat any closer to her than necessary either.

Katara returned her gaze to the two figures riding in front of her, wondering exactly what they were talking about. A few times Aang had looked at her, and something had flickered in his eyes, like he wasn’t even really looking at _her_, like he didn’t fully recognize her. Even if his problem wasn’t something she could help with, she wished he would confide in her – wasn’t that what they were supposed to do? What they had always done?

She had seen, in the swamp, her own importance to Aang, in the form of the future Avatars. She knew the Avatar needed her – and she had thought Aang knew that as well, but the frustration that was currently rising in her gut was familiar – it was the same sensation Katara had experienced for weeks during the conference at Ba Sing Se.

To be shut out was not something Katara wanted to go through again. The strain it had put on their relationship had been unbearable, that desire to help shoulder his burden becoming an even heavier weight on his shoulders.

And suddenly, Katara found herself realizing that the only way to avoid repeating that experience was… to back off, and let Aang come to her. It was a position she was not accustomed to taking – and not one she was happy about either, but something in the swamp had clearly changed Aang, and he needed time to deal with it before he could let her help him as well.

However, Katara hadn’t forgotten that when she’d first envisioned the Avatars, there had been no airbender. Touching the betrothal necklace still hanging from her neck, she thought about how she’d never loved another – how she could never love another, not after Aang. The same went for him; there was no doubt in her mind. She’d been so relieved after her visions in the swamp, seeing how important she was to Aang and to the future, but now she realized –

The visions in the swamp hadn’t been to reassure her, but to warn her.

* * *

Aang had been silent for large portions of Bumi’s speech, and Bumi had to wonder just how much of it he was listening to. The pair had been friends all their lives, and Aang took his position as Avatar very seriously – he wouldn’t let his mind wander when Bumi was speaking to him leader-to-leader. What if Bumi started speaking in rhymes or riddles or started throwing things at him? The airbender knew by now to keep his wits about him around Bumi.

Perhaps he was still worried about his bison? He’d told Bumi how he’d been calling for Appa and had been unable to find him, and had therefore been immensely relived to hear that Appa was in the safe keeping of a bewildered farmer a little south of where they currently were. Bumi had already sent a soldier with instructions to have the bison fly to Omashu, but now he wondered if it would have been better to have the beast attempt to find them on the Earth Kingdom plains, if maybe Aang would be more comfortable with what he was familiar with.

“So Bao is in prison now?” Aang asked anxiously, interrupting the king’s thoughts. Bumi had to feel bad for him – the poor airbender had just come stumbling out of the swamp looking like walking death and he’d had to immediately throw himself back into work settling the world down again.

“In custody of the 17th division,” Bumi confirmed. “The 21st was catching up with the Freedom Fighters as well –“

There were deep creases in Aang’s forehead. “Do you think they’ll catch up with them this time? You’ve been after Jet for years.”

“With Bao throwing us off the trail.” Bumi scratched his head. “I think it’ll work itself out.” Throwing a glance back at the entourage trailing the pair, Bumi shrugged. “We need to get back to Omashu. I need a new heir, and you need some rest. I think there’s a village with an inn several miles up from here and we can set out in the morning-“

Aang wasn’t paying attention again. Bumi easily called up a dirt clod from the earth passing beneath him and tossed it at Aang, who noticed it only at the last minute and directed it away from his head with a small air blast. Bumi decided it was probably the best he could hope for.

“Was Bao particularly attracted to court life?” Aang suddenly blurted out.

Bumi blinked at his old friend and wondered where he was going with this. “He was adopted into it, but I don’t see what person would object to going from being an orphan to living at court.”

Aang seemed to be struggling for words. “But did he… did he seem eager to take the throne?”

Bumi scratched his head, holding onto the reigns loosely with one hand and having absolutely no idea that the general riding farther behind him was holding his breath in terror every time the king did such a thing. “I don’t know that he wanted to take the throne exactly… although he took his responsibilities as heir seriously. I think he saw it more as a useful tool to bring down the Fire Nation.”

Aang was quiet again. Bumi considered switching to bigger rocks, then wondered if he’d be knocking sense back into Aang or making his situation worse.

“Aang, what happened in there? Were you all in that swamp the whole time?”

His friend’s eyebrows creased again and he was silent for so long that Bumi thought Aang was ignoring his question, and then Aang asked, “The king of Omashu before you – King Ying. You remember him?”

“Of course,” Bumi frowned at Aang. “He’s the one who selected me as his heir and trained me to be king myself. He used to slip mud in my coffee when I made fun of his name.”

Aang nodded. “And the king of Omashu before him – King Wei. Do you remember him?”

“Sweet bending badgermoles, of course not. King Ying was already in his nineties before he chose me – King Wei died decades before we were born.”

Aang turned to look at Bumi now, making direct eye contact, and for the first time in a long time Bumi found himself taken aback. He was one hundred and fifteen years old – ancient by the world’s standards, and also making him possibly the only person in the entire world who remembered that technically, Aang was one hundred and seventeen years old, even if his body physically lacked a full century of aging.

But the look Aang gave him was not the look of a weary world leader of seventeen, or even one hundred and seventeen, and the thought suddenly skittered across Bumi’s mind that Aang was even older than that – Aang was the Avatar, Aang had lived thousands of lives for thousands of years. If he, Bumi, felt weary at the age of one hundred and fifteen, he could only imagine how Aang sometimes felt.

“I remember him,” Aang said hoarsely, “Like you said, he died decades before either one of us was born and I remember him, I remember that he used to burn awful incense in his office and that he only wore green in front of citizens because he really didn’t like the color and that he consulted me several times before announcing Ying as his successor.”

Bumi stared at Aang. He’d never heard his friend talk like this before. “He was small, really short and skinny and I used to be amused by the fact that he had such small hands for such a powerful earthbender.” Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he added, almost to himself, “’Course, this was before I met Toph-“

“And by “you”, you mean-“

“Well… Avatar Roku.” Aang nodded. “Because like you said, King Wei died decades before we were born.”

Aang lapsed into silence again, and Bumi found himself wondering whether his original question had been answered or not. He strongly suspected it had, even if he wasn’t sure what it meant.

* * *

The little village containing the inn where they finally stopped was like any number of Earth Kingdom villages. Mai had spent the last five years traveling through and living in them, and except for the very first one where Azula had been so ill, they all blurred together in her mind into one big Earth Kingdom Village.

Numbly, her mind counted off the checklist – miles and miles of farmland, followed by ruts surrounding the village, where the earthbenders would retreat to in defense. There was the tiny market right at the gates to enter the village – an apple stall, check, a fish stall, check, tomatoes, cabbages, check, check – and then the tiny apartments where those who did not live above their shops or on their farmland lived. She’d been to one, she’d been to twenty, to fifty, and she’d been to them all.

Unlike most Earth Kingdom villages, however, this one served as a hub for traders going between port and Omashu, so they had no trouble locating stables to put up their ostrich horses and an inn to house them all for the night.

When they had first arrived Mai and Ty Lee had hung back, unsure what to do – again, she sensed that Ty Lee merely wanted to bolt, even though every single one of Mai’s instincts screamed for her to stay close to Zuko. Not to mention that he’d asked for them to inform him of their decision.

Zuko was certainly showing them a lot of trust, considering their shared history. Once they’d gotten into the village he’d secured the pair a room for their own and hadn’t set any guard for them, leaving them free to wander how they chose.

Mostly, however, they were curled up in an awkward silence in their little room. Mai was sitting on the windowsill, looking out towards the setting sun, and Ty Lee was curled up on one of the beds, her eyes staying trained on Mai, breaking only to flick over at the door and then return to settle upon Mai again.

“Mai…” Ty Lee’s voice was gentle, and Mai found herself wondering why Ty Lee seemed to want to coddle her. “Where do you want to go from here?”

Mai didn’t answer for a moment – when she thought about it, she only drew a blank. She couldn’t imagine her life without Azula. Azula had taken care of everything, Azula had given them an agenda. Azula had given them goals and set their path. It didn’t seem right to be making plans for travel without seeking the princesses’ approval first.

She thought again of Zuko’s offer – to get on his boat and return to the Fire Nation, where she hadn’t been for five whole years. It seemed strange to seriously contemplate it; she’d never thought she’d return to the Fire Nation, let alone be welcomed there again for the rest of her life.

“I mean…” Ty Lee’s voice was still halting, as if she were unsure of her words. “Azula wanted to go to Omashu, but I think maybe we should cut back down south again. I liked the weather down there more-“

Mai’s jaw dropped, and she slowly turned her head to gape at Ty Lee.

“Azula-“ She had been planning on saying something about Azula’s plans in Omashu and how they no longer had any bearing on either of their lives, but her throat got stuck on her dead friend’s name and all Mai could do was mouth like a dying fish, repeating Azula’s name like some strange cough. “Azula – Azula wanted-“

“Azula would not want us to stay here with _him_,” Ty Lee said simply, glancing up at the door again.

Rage like she’d never felt before exploded behind Mai’s eyes. “How would you know?” Mai demanded. “Everything Azula did was to get back to the Fire Nation. Everything she wanted was in the Fire Nation. And why do you even care about what Azula would want us to do?”

Ty Lee’s grey eyes had widened, going huge in her surprise at Mai’s words. Mai’s anger had thrown her off of her patronizing attitude as well. “Wh…why wouldn’t I care about Azula?”

“You certainly had no problem running away when she needed our help.” Mai’s words were as sharp as her knives, and judging by the look on Ty Lee’s face she could tell that they had cut just as deeply as well.

“Mai.” There was a low, begging tone to Ty Lee’s voice. “Azula was-“

“Azula was our friend! Our family! And we left her! You didn’t help me at all!”

“So all three of us could have died?” It was not said with malice, only with simple acceptance. “I told you Mai, there was something about that place. It did something to Azula-“

“It _killed_ her!” What had happened to her nice, calm voice? Mai wondered when she had become so shrill.

Ty Lee buried her face into her knees. “You’re right. It killed her. It killed her and neither of us could save her-“

“Neither of us _could_ save her or neither of us _would_ save her?”

She ignored Mai’s interruption and determinedly continued. “But since we can’t bring her back, let’s go forward! What else we are going to do Mai? Sit here and wait for her? Where do you want to go?” By the end Ty Lee sounded exasperated, and, feeling hurt and betrayed once again, Mai looked away, back out the window.

What did she want? Where did she want to go?

“Home,” Mai murmured. She didn’t realize she had spoken out loud until Ty Lee answered.

“Where is home, Mai?”

For years, home for Mai had been in silky black hair, flashing amber eyes, and a wicked smile behind a palm full of flames. That home had been taken away, and now it seemed only right to Mai to start back at the beginning, back in the Fire Nation where their story had started.

She didn’t think Ty Lee would understand – or even worse, she didn’t think Ty Lee would care – and so instead she shrugged, returning to her default attitude of apathy, even if the turmoil in her heart and mind indicated she was feeling anything but.

* * *

“General Iroh?”

She found him snoozing in his chair, sitting with a cup of tea balanced on the cushy arm, his head tucked down into his chest as it rose and fell in a regular rhythm.

“Bwuh?” Iroh’s head snapped up, blinking blearily as he tried to figure out what was going on. The cup started sliding down towards his lap, but he scrambled and managed to catch it at the last minute, sloshing tea over the back of his hand but not spilling any on himself or the furniture. He made eye contact with the maid and visibly deflated. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Wasting your time with that silly game again, are you?” She clucked her tongue despite the fact that she was well aware of the history behind Pai Sho and the general’s enthusiasm.

Iroh frowned at her. “Silly game? You sound like my nephew. Sit down and let me teach you a thing or two about it.”

She swatted at him with a feather duster. “Unlikely. Everyone in court knows that’s the line you used to trap your dear wife into marriage.”

Iroh’s laugh turned into a cough, and she smiled in relief when she realized that the coughs were dry and that whatever had been clogging his lungs was clearing quickly.

“What are you doing sleeping in here?” she scolded. “You do have a top quality bed with the softest mattress and the finest linens.”

“You’re right.” Iroh stood up and stretched, then stopped mid-motion, blinking in confusion and looking up at the window. “…It’s not even dinner time yet!” he exclaimed.

“No, sir,” she agreed, a weary tone to her voice. “I’ve warned you before about burning the candle at both ends.”

Sitting back down in his chair, Iroh peered down at his Pai Sho board. Despite his cold and the recent upsetting news that had been coming out of the Earth Kingdom, Iroh looked remarkably relaxed.

“I do not think you’ll have to worry about my sleeping habits much longer,” he said mildly, still studying the tiles. “I believe Zuko will be back soon enough and he can resume his normal duties.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, surprised by his sudden confidence – Iroh had been keeping an upbeat attitude in front of the advisors and most of the other staff because it was his job and people were looking to him to lead in Zuko’s absence, but she’d known Iroh since he was a teenager. She could see the strain it was taking on him, and his little cold had just made it worse.

Put off by the conviction he had spoken with, the maid couldn’t bring herself to snark at him, even if that was her usual response to the old general. “What makes you say that?” she asked, not wanting to bring him down but still curious as to how he’d reached such a conclusion.

Iroh picked up his teapot and poured fresh tea, offering her a cup. She blushed and politely refused, and he gestured to the Pai Sho board laid out in front of him. “Things look good,” he said finally, and she took a step closer to the board and peered at it cautiously, as if she expected it to rise up and bite her.

She didn’t know anything about Pai Sho, so she had no idea why three tiles set in a triangle in the middle of the board should be seen as positive, especially when they were set apart from the entire rest of the tiles, which were crowded in large circles around the outer edges of the board. After blinking at it for a moment, she smiled softly at Iroh and proceeded to gather up his tea set with the promise of sending fresh ginseng.

“Dinner will be ready in about an hour, and the advisors will want to meet one last time this evening afterwards so I suggest you-“

An excited shout from the general cut her off, and startling in surprise she whipped around to find Iroh up and heading towards the windows.

“What, what’s wrong?” she cried, and Iroh pointed to a form in the air that was quickly growing larger.

“It’s a messenger hawk,” he said triumphantly.

* * *

The air was damp and smelled like rain, but still Aang couldn’t bring himself to retreat from the windowsill back into the bedroom to face everything that was waiting for him. Toph often mocked him for being a “typical Airbender,” but at the moment Aang was happy just to be a typical anything, with the way his world had just been shaken.

It was helping him, to have some moments to himself to just let his mind move on automatic without having to see anyone or try to make sense of anything. His room faced away from the town square, and beyond the buildings he could see the farmlands, the dark sunset, and a great cloud of black smoke rising in the west.

He had created that fire. He also hadn’t created that fire – technically it had been Daiyu’s doing. Even more technically, it had been that damn dragon’s doing, that silly little thing that was so infuriated at the idea of being thought of as a weeny. (How could he help it? Aang had _ridden_ on Roku’s dragon. Daiyu’s pet barely came up to his knees.)

Still, it was his fault, his responsibility. He wasn’t sorry – he’d done what he’d had to do to get out of the swamp, and he’d managed to save those most important to him. He couldn’t have asked for more.

Something hit his nose, and absently Aang swiped away the first splatter of rain, completely disinterested in going back to the relative safety of the room. Cold rain was welcome in comparison to the stifling heat of the swamp, and he embraced the opportunity to numb himself.

“Aang?”

Aang stifled a groan at the sound of her voice, subconsciously amused that, even with how everything in his head had been mixed up, some things never changed. Whenever he withdrew, whether physically or mentally, Katara was always there to pull him back to the real world. It was part of the reason he loved her so much –

\- but it was also part of the reason many Avatars had loved many people over their lifetimes. He felt guilty over how he’d been treating her since their escape. She had to be feeling uncertain and insecure over his uncharacteristic behavior, but it still didn’t feel right, to claim to love her when he could see the faces and bodies of all he’d ever loved. It didn’t feel fair to her, that Katara had devoted herself to one and only one and while he, Aang, had also done so, the Avatars could not make that same claim. Katara deserved better than someone who had to blink twice just to recognize her.

“Aang?” she called again and appeared at the window, bracing herself against the sill as she leaned out of the window to look at him. “Were you meditating? I’m-“

“I’m sorry,” Aang interrupted her mid-sentence, licking his lips as his eyes flicked to her only to find her all wrong (dark hair, dark eyes, and light skin) and returning to the horizon while he focused on her voice. At least he could recognize that.

Katara was quiet for a long moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was hesitant. “I just wanted to let you know that Bumi had dinner sent to the room so we wouldn’t have to go down to the restaurant. There’s soup and some fruit in here if you’re hungry.”

She stopped there and started to pull away from the window, but Aang mentally filled in the blanks; knew her well enough to translate what she was saying to him without actually saying it: _You haven’t eaten or slept in spirits knows how long and I’m worried and I wish you’d talk to me or at least look directly at me_.

“Katara,” her name spilled from his lips, as perfect and right as it had been the day she had found him. She appeared back in the window, holding back one of the billowing grey drapes so she could look at him curiously.

He wanted to hold her so closely that it was her, only her, ingrained into his body and mind. He wanted to send her away and make her forget he ever existed. He wanted to reassure her.

Katara was still waiting for him to speak, and finally he blurted out, “What do you remember, at the center of the swamp?”

He still couldn’t look at her, not without seeing a hundred different faces at once, but he didn’t need to look at her to see the confusion cross her face; he could hear it perfectly in her tone. “I… I saw you, but you weren’t you. There was someone in your body, and they said you deserved to be imprisoned, for crimes you had committed as the Avatar.”

That fool spirit had indicated as much as well, and Aang nodded. “After that?”

“You… It… wanted to get out of the swamp. I tried to fight it but… you’re stronger than me, and I was afraid of hurting you.”

His eyes clenched tight at that bit of information. She could have been hurt so badly, even killed if not for that spirit’s obsession with escaping. The thought that it could have happened by his own powers made his throat close up for a moment, and after swallowing hard he asked, “And after that?”

Katara thought for a long moment, as if pulling a memory from far away. “I saw… the Avatars. I saw Roku, and a firebender, and I saw you and… whoever was in your body.” She shuddered, a movement he caught only out of the corner of his eye. “And fire. There was fire everywhere.”

Fire had always scared her, no matter how brave she acted in the face of it. He couldn’t blame her, after everything she’d been through in dealing with the Fire Nation. Taking a deep breath, he doggedly pursued his interrogation: “You saw Roku?”

“I spoke to Roku,” Katara said faintly, shifting and sitting against the sill, her hips and shoulders flush with him even as she stared back into the room. “He called me Ayano.”

Ayano had been Fire Nation royalty, technically – her brother had been married to one of Sozin’s younger sisters. Her father had wanted to arrange a marriage for her with one of the other noble families, and it wasn’t until she’d shamed her family and thrown dinner in the poor boys face and threatened to run away to Roku that the marriage had been shelved. Roku had been furious, Aang remembered. He’d wanted her to live a normal life that he couldn’t give her.

She’d worn her long, dark hair plain, hating the circlets and hairpieces that were so common in the Fire Nation’s royal family. She’d had a birthmark on her arm, and Aang’s eyes instinctively looked at Katara’s bare arm, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of it.

He took a deep breath, steeling his resolve. She deserved to know. She deserved to make a choice. He couldn’t make her stay with him when he wasn’t even sure who she always was.

“The Avatars… all came into the center of the swamp,” he said slowly. “That’s why you saw them.”

He paused, and he could actually feel Katara’s eyes on him, watching him intently.

“But… I think pulling them all away from the spirit world did something, flipped something.” Aang was wringing his hands now, and, noticing, he clenched them in an attempt to calm them. “When they all went away, I think part of them went back… inside me. In my memory.”

“You mean the Avatar spirit?” Katara sounded more confident – she knew the Avatar spirit. She’d dealt with it before.

“No. Yes. No!” Aang rubbed his head, trying to find the words. “Roku called you Ayano because Ayano was the woman Roku loved in his life, more than anyone else. You’re…” Katara was _his_. “You- Roku recognized that in you. And I can see her, in you, too.”

Katara was silent, her braid twitching in the wind. Rain was still dripping, barely, in slow, fat drops that Aang could fly between.

“I’m sorry,” Aang murmured, feeling like he wanted to cry again. “You don’t have to deal with this. This isn’t your problem. You don’t-“

He was cut off when he felt Katara’s hand at his side, brushing down his arm to find his hand sitting dumbly on his thigh. Her hand rested over his, and their fingers automatically interlocked.

“We can deal with it,” Katara said quietly, neither one of them looking at the other. “We’ve been dealing with it for lifetimes, apparently.”

Aang said nothing in response, not wanting to break the sudden spell that had fallen over both of them, and a moment later Katara’s head fell to his shoulder, and there they stayed until the rain fell harder and drove them both inside.

_   
_

* * *

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Animus Facit Nobilem - The Spirit Makes Man Noble


	20. Mihi Cura Futuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka copes, Toph comes to grips, Zuko gives his reasons, and everybody heads home. Kind of.

Even despite his dazed state, Sokka heard his sister’s footsteps long before she moved into his line of vision, hands on her hips and something akin to pity on her face.

Slumped in a chair on the back patio of the now-closed common room of the inn, Sokka had been quite enjoying his quiet time alone. The weather was cool, if slightly rainy, and if he watched long enough once in a while the dark clouds broke and he got a chance to catch a glimpse of the silvery crescent moon floating across the sky.

Katara tapped her foot for a moment before finally asking, “How much wine did you have with dinner?”

“Enough,” he grunted. Not enough to make himself sick – he wasn’t dumb, he knew he had a long ride on a hopping ostrich horse waiting for him in the morning – but enough that he finally felt relaxed for the first time in days.

Katara rocked back and forth for a moment, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “coping mechanism,” before finally shrugging and, throwing herself down in the chair next to him, asking, “Do you have any left?”

He had almost a full bottle next to him – purchased with the intent of going home in his saddle bag with just a sip to wash down both his dinner and the wine he’d had with dinner – and without hesitation he picked it up and passed it over to his sister, who uncorked it and took a long swig before stopping and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand breathlessly.

“Did Toph tell you where I was?” Sokka finally asked, not bothering to look at her as she passed the bottle back to him.

Katara bobbled her head in confirmation.

Sokka frowned. “You didn’t wake her up, did you? She needs to sleep.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Katara shot back, reaching for the wine again. “I stopped in to check on her before I went to sleep myself and she was tossing and turning.”

“I’m worried about her,” Sokka confessed, eyes still on the sky, making out a silver glow haloing the cloud currently in front of the moon.

“I am too.” Katara took another drink before adding, “I tried to soothe her mind a bit before she went back to sleep but it’s still full of chaos…” she paused to think of the right words. “It’s like a tree that’s been uprooted.”

“She’s strong,” Sokka muttered, not sure if he was attempting to reassure Katara or himself. “We all had a scare in there. She’ll be okay.” He thought for a moment, then asked, “Have you seen Zuko?”

He could almost hear Katara’s muscles pull into a frown. “He’s been holed up with Cai for most of the evening. Aang went to talk to him before dinner but I don’t think he wants to talk to any of us.”

“What’s _his_ problem?” Sokka had been informed, several times, of Zuko’s upbringing and the traumatizing events of both his childhood and his adolescence, and of the tremendous stress he was under as the leader of the fragile Fire Nation. Sokka’s response, several times, was that he couldn’t really be bothered with it. He had little patience for Zuko when he started throwing, in the warrior’s own words, “temper tantrums,” and had even less patience for Zuko’s whole attitude since they’d escaped the swamp, especially when he and his friends had risked their lives to go and fetch him in the first place.

“I think he’s still mad at us,” Katara grumbled, tipping the bottle back again. Sokka watched her out of the corner of her eye. His sister rarely drank. “He thought we’d abandoned him in the swamp.”

“How could he think that?” Sokka demanded, but Katara merely shrugged.

“Me and Aang told him…” she seemed far less concerned about Zuko’s attitude than he did. “You know the swamp, Sokka. It gets inside of people. He’ll get over it.”

“He better,” Sokka muttered, “or my boomerang is gonna get inside of him and set him straight real quick.”

Katara snorted, and the pair lapsed back into silence for a long moment, no sound other than the occasional shriek from the stable and the swishing as they passed the bottle of wine back and forth.

Finally, Sokka broached the subject he’d been avoiding. “How is Aang?”

There was no response other than a long sigh from Katara, and after a silence that felt like years to Sokka (but was probably only a minute or two), Katara said, “Don’t you think it’s funny that we both fell in love with something bigger than us?”

“Wha-?” He turned a confused gaze to his sister to find her looking up at the night sky, peering at the hazy shine as a cloud passed in front of the moon.

“Yue was touched by the moon spirit even before we knew her, and then she became the moon spirit. She’ll always be up there…” Katara ran a finger around the lip of the bottle thoughtfully before adding, “…and there’ll always be an Avatar.”

Sokka slouched in his chair, leaning his head against the back and craning his head back to the sky. It was true. There would always be a moon, even after there wasn’t a Sokka. And the Avatar – Katara wasn’t the first of the Avatar’s loves and she wouldn’t be the last.

For a moment he felt as tiny as could be, an indescribable speck, the tiniest wave in the current of time…

And then he remembered Yue’s smile. And Yue’s laugh. And Yue’s kiss.

“We don’t stand a chance, do we?” he asked blankly, looking at his sister. She shrugged and gave him a sad smile before shaking her head in agreement. He looked back up at the moon, framed perfectly by a small break in the clouds.

“It’s worth it though,” he added, before closing his eyes, not caring if Katara agreed with him or not.

* * *

Toph rarely had nightmares. This was because she was practical and not much frightened her, and on the rare occasions something traveled into her sleep and haunted her dreams, she usually ended up kicking hard enough for vibrations to set her straight, thus banishing the bad dream back into her subconscious.

While Toph slept in her tiny bed in the inn, she dreamt only of blackness – for someone who lived huge portions of her life without sight, darkness was nothing new, but she’d never been in total blackness, where there was nothing; not her friends, not the soothing earth calling to her: only herself standing blindly in the dark.

_My master_.

Herself and the voice. It no longer taunted her when she was awake but she knew it would take far longer for her to shake it totally from her memory, the feeling of it curling around the edges of her mind and embracing her like she belonged to it and no one else.

She woke up, sweaty and tangled in the sheets with the voice that had been ringing so loudly in her head already fading into a whisper. She couldn’t even remember what it had been saying to her, but she’d never forget that chill, that shiver that went down her spine whenever she heard it.

Toph rolled from the bed and landed on the floor on all fours, desperate for the stone she knew lay beneath the thin layer of carpet on the floors. For a moment she let her palms rest against it, feeling the unyielding stone even through the threadbare rug, before deciding it wasn’t enough.

The night was cool but Toph was more than used to the elements and didn’t bother to pull on a thicker tunic as she slipped from the room – half sure Sokka would poke his head out from the door next to hers and demand to know what she was doing – and worked her way out through the kitchen – empty except from some mice skittering around – out into the courtyard she knew was laying behind the inn, where there were also some tables that patrons liked to eat at when the weather was nice.

She’d bury herself in the earth, and then there’d be nothing but the soothing thrum of soil and stone to intrude upon her thoughts.

The ground was soggy and gave way under her feet; instantly, they were coated with mud, and with a sigh of pleasure Toph stopped and ground each foot in turn into the muck, letting it squish pleasantly between each toe.

“Toph?”

She stiffened at the sound of his voice, surprised and slightly put out at being caught in such an intimate gesture with her native element.

“Sokka? What are you doing out here?”

She really didn’t have to ask – the smell of wine hung in the air, and his voice was thick, as if he had to think hard to not slur his words.

“It’s a beautiful night,” Sokka informed her haughtily, as if it were silly for him to even have to acknowledge it - when in reality Toph couldn’t _see_ it – and even if she could, she knew he was wrong. She could smell the rain on the air and feel the earth sighing in relief as the water soaked into the ground. Before she could sigh and lecture him on his overindulgence, however, he called from his little seat on the veranda, “Are you feeling okay? You need your rest.”

Irritation flared even as Toph tried to remind herself that Sokka only cared about her. “I’m fine!” she snapped. “Stop asking!”

She could almost hear him wilting. “Look,” Toph added, much more gently this time. “You’ll _know_. You don’t have to ask.” No one could spot when Toph needed help better than Sokka, and he was one of the few people on the planet she grudgingly accepted it from. There was no reason to hover over her.

He thought about this for a moment before apparently deciding to accept it, because his next words were an almost petulant sounding, “So why’re you out here anyway?”

Toph bent over, planting her hands firmly in the dirt as well. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“You should try.”

“So should you!” she shot back.

He couldn’t argue with that, and after another couple of moments of stupid silence Toph extricated herself from the mud and stalked over to him, holding out a hand impatiently.

“…What?” he asked warily, staring at it as if she were holding a live snake.

“C’mon.” Toph finally reached out and snagged him by the forearm, bodily dragging him from his chair and out into the grassy garden area she’d been standing in.

“What are you doing?” he asked when she stopped almost directly where she’d been standing before, one of her feet finding the same groove it had been standing in before.

“This,” she informed him, bracing her arms on his chest and pushing. He must have been drunker than she had originally suspected, because with a whoosh of air he landed on his back like a sack of rocks - and normally she’d have had to add an extra kick to his knees to get them to buckle.

“Hey!” Sokka protested, not trying to get up. She smirked at him before spinning on her heel and collapsing down directly next to him, allowing her arms to flop above her head as she sprawled on the ground, breathing deeply the scent of the earth beneath her.

“You remember when we got stuck in the desert?” she asked, wondering if she’d be able to get the mud out of her ears. Eventually, Toph decided. The next time she took a bath.

“Yeah.”

“The swamp wasn’t much better, when it came to the vibrations. Everything was all swirly and fuzzy because of the water and the slime, and what earth I could feel was in so much pain from being torn apart by that spirit.”

He didn’t say anything in response, even though Toph could feel his heart beating harder than normal. “We should go inside.” He said finally, his voice oddly flat. “You need to get some sleep.”

“So do you,” Toph pointed out.

“You’re right.” But he lay still, and a moment later shifted, stretching his arms above his head and then clasping them across his chest. “…Want to just stay here?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” And those were the last words either one spoke for a long time. Eventually Toph’s eyes drooped closed, a true smile on her face and a feeling of relief in her mind.

* * *

Morning dawned crisp and annoyingly bright, with birds chirping and the sounds of animals and carts heading towards market filtering through the window. For Ty Lee, who’d spent a sleepless night debating what to do, it was a most unwelcome sight.

It wasn’t her decision that was worrying her as much as how she was going to tell Mai – Mai, who already thought Ty Lee did not care about Azula, Mai who thought that Ty Lee had been willing to abandon their friend. Ty Lee didn’t want to validate Mai’s suspicions, but how could she not?

There was nothing waiting for her in the Fire Nation.

Maybe someday, but not now. Not when she had the chance to resume her tour of the Earth Kingdom that had been interrupted by Azula’s search for the Avatar and the war. Not when she had a chance to decide where she wanted to go for herself for the first time in years.

Mai, she suspected, would want to return to the Fire Nation with Zuko. Not for the first time Ty Lee found herself wondering exactly what had happened between the pair in the swamp, what they had experienced or decided together. Mai seemed far more trusting of the Fire Lord than Ty Lee thought wise considering their history. A far more treacherous part of Ty Lee’s brain suspected that Mai was only attaching herself to Zuko because (or despite of) his similarities to Azula – Azula might have been brash and aggressive, but Zuko was equal parts determination and bravery, and a little part of her she refused to acknowledge thought Mai was clutching at things that were familiar to her.

Which made what she had to tell her best friend all the harder.

Rolling out of the bed and stretching, she opened the windows to peer outside at the stables, which were already bustling with the sight of soldiers gathering supplies and readying the ostrich horses.

“It looks like Zuko is going to want to leave soon,” she remarked, frowning.

The bundle that was Mai rolled up in the sheets twitched. Then, “You’re not coming, are you?”

Ty Lee’s jaw dropped and she spun around to stare at her friend, who was still facing away from her. Taken entirely off guard, she spluttered for a second before Mai finally chose to disentangle herself from the blankets and sit up, finger-combing her hair back into some semblance of order. Catching sight of Ty Lee’s shocked face, Mai merely cocked an eyebrow and pointed out, “It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“I – well – you –“ Ty Lee struggled for words before finally blurting out, “Is that okay?!”

Mai threw her a strange, unreadable look. “You didn’t ask my permission to skip graduation and run away from Academy.”

“That was different!” Ty Lee protested.

Mai quirked an eyebrow. “How so?”

Ty Lee found herself speechless. Part of her felt relief at Mai’s words – and the rest of her wanted to demand answers. The night before Mai had accused her of abandoning Azula to the swamp and now she was insisting that Ty Lee leave?

“Are you okay?” she finally asked, unsure what else to say.

Mai sighed and began to gather what few things they had, shaking out her cloak and beating the mud from her boots. “I had a dream about graduation last night,” she said, her eyes focused on the task. “And I was so mad at you for skipping out to run away to the circus of all places, even though that’s what you said you were going to do for, like, a year before that.”

Ty Lee nodded, remembering her gushing enthusiastically about her plans the entire spring and summer before their graduation. “One of my teachers threatened to write me up for making ridiculous claims.”

“But you did it anyway,” Mai insisted, looking at Ty Lee out of the corner of her eye. “And you didn’t look back until Azula tracked you down. And then you left the circus, and you didn’t look back then either. You never do.”

“I guess not…” Ty Lee shrugged, rubbing her neck, feeling uncomfortable and wanting to change the subject. “So you’re going back with Zuko?”

“Yes.” Mai’s tone was flat.

“Why?”

“Why’d you run away to the circus?”

“It was my calling.” Ty Lee wrapped her braid around her knuckles and tugged nervously. “It felt right. It felt like home.”

“It’s something similar.” Mai shrugged. “It could feel like home, maybe.” She stopped to think about this and amended, “If it doesn’t get too boring again, too quickly.”

A grin tugged at Ty Lee’s mouth. “You could always run away and join me at a traveling circus. They pay good money for knife throwers – they have this one trick where they put a girl up against a piece of wood -“

The same almost-grin was being stifled on Mai’s face as well. “Unlikely… but I’ll keep it in mind.”

* * *

Cai found him staring dumbly down at the formerly sealed piece of parchment. Zuko had practically tossed the thing aside in his irritation the day before when Bumi had presented it to him, far more concerned about his uncle’s wellbeing and the reason Cai had been sent to the Earth Kingdom to meet them than to worry about some stupid message that didn’t even say what he would have sworn before Agni himself he’d thought it had said.

So when the tiny thing had fallen out of his saddle bag while they were preparing to leave that morning, curiosity had finally overpowered the pain and concern and sheer anger that had been battling for domination in his head and he reached out, popped the seal, and scanned the contents of the message that had sent them on this entire journey:

_Honorable Lord Zuko,_

_We have failed in our attempt to purchase a crate of Ba Sing Se’s finest jasmine tea that is so favored by your uncle, the Admirable General Iroh. We shall endeavor to make a second attempt to acquire the desired product on the morrow._

Zuko didn’t even need to read the signature to recognize the needlessly puffed up language of his top lieutenant, who’d been in charge of his entourage during the entire trip to Ba Sing Se.

“Lord Zuko, sir?” Zuko’s eyes darted to where his advisor was standing next to an ostrich horse, a look of nervousness on his face. Then he realized that he could hear his teeth grinding and feel a headache coming from his frown and tense forehead, and made a slight attempt to look more approachable.

“Yes?”

“We’re ready to move at King Bumi’s signal, and he’s just waiting for us.” Cai was still shifting nervously, his eyes flickering between Zuko’s face, his ostrich horse’s saddle, and Zuko’s hands. Zuko followed his gaze to find that he was wringing the piece of parchment trapped between them. With a deep sigh, Zuko clenched his hands, letting the message burst into flames and fall to the ground in bits of ash.

“Do we have everyone with us?” This whole fiasco could have been prevented. How had he been sure that his uncle was sick? He’d been so sure. He could see him, confined to a bed and gasping for breath.

“Sir,” Cai nodded, gesturing with his head. Zuko glanced back at the entourage and saw Mai on her own ostrich horse, definitely trying to blend in but standing out anyway. Ty Lee had come to him in the morning and told him that she would be striking out on her own, probably heading towards Ba Sing Se, but that Mai would be heading back to the Fire Nation.

“I know you told me to stay in the Earth Kingdom permanently…” she had trailed off, worrying her braid between her fingers. “But if Mai needs me…” There had been no need to finish the sentence. There would no stopping her.

Zuko had nodded. “She’ll be taken care of.” It should have been in a threatening manner. He’d _meant_ to say it in a threatening manner, except not really. He was never very good at threats. Or bluffing. He didn’t mind taking Mai back to the Fire Nation with him – a little part of him suspected that it was that he hated being in another’s debt. Barring anything else in their history, Mai had, no matter what, aided him in the swamp. The least he could do was make sure she landed on her feet. Especially when she no longer had Azula to boss her around.

In his musing he missed words from Cai, and, startling, he looked at the advisor and barked, “Excuse me?”

Cai instantly flinched. “I don’t mean to bring your judgment into question Lord Zuko. It’s just that both she and the other girl who left already have been wanted by the Fire Nation for years. I don’t understand why we’re taking her back as a free citizen.”

Zuko chewed his bottom lip for a moment, watching Mai out of the corner of his eye, and then looking back at Cai, who suddenly looked so young compared to him even though they were only three or four years apart.

“Throughout the last leg of the war Azula took Mai and Ty Lee and hunted my uncle and me and the Avatar, on personal orders from my father.” Cai nodded. This was common knowledge. Zuko continued, “And while Azula had some very persuasive tactics of getting people to do her bidding, there’s no doubt in my mind that both of them could have run away at any time if they really wanted to or weren’t entirely comfortable with what they were doing.”

Cai frowned. This was not explaining why Zuko did not want to arrest them.

“And when the war ended and I took the throne, I waited for one of them to come forward and beg for leniency like all the other nobles, to say that Azula had made them do it and that they had never trusted her.” It had been a chaotic time in his life, sorting through who had been serious in their claims of regret and who had merely been cold and calculating and waiting to knock him off the throne.

“Neither one of them did. They both chose exile with Azula rather than to attempt to bargain for my forgiveness and live a life of comfort again.” It had been something that had bothered him for a long time, whenever the subject of his sister had come up.

His tone changed, suddenly becoming harsher, harder. “Tell me, Master Cai.” His advisor looked nervous again, and Zuko continued, “If they had succeeded in getting rid of me, in pushing me off of my throne and left you in a position of vulnerability as one of my advisors, would you vouch for me, and defend me, or would you flee?”

Cai’s eyes widened, and he actually stopped breathing at Zuko’s accusing question.

“Answer _honestly,_” Zuko insisted, crossing his arms and giving his most commanding glare.

Cai closed his eyes, his face flushing red as he took a deep breath. “I do have a family to consider, Lord Zuko,” he finally murmured, as if he were signing his own death warrant.

Zuko said nothing in response, and when Cai finally opened his eyes again Zuko nodded at him, not smiling but still giving the man an indication that he had answered correctly.

Mounting his ostrich horse, he glanced back at Mai, who wasn’t riding as tall as she normally would have, who was sitting on her ostrich horse a little more slumped, a little more defeated than normal.

“So did they,” Zuko finally said, then gestured to Cai’s waiting ostrich horse. “Saddle up. I want to go home.”

* * *

Despite the rain the night before, it looked like they were going to have perfect weather for the ride back to Omashu. The group could have made it back to the city in another full day if they’d rushed, but after breakfast Bumi and Aang had had a long talk and decided that, based on the current atmosphere it would be best if the group took their time, making several long pit stops in little towns and in ports to make it clear that both the Avatar and the Fire Lord were alive and well and not responsible for the other’s disappearance. News traveled fastest from small town to small town, and even though they all needed rest after everything they’d been through, the job of the Avatar never went away. Preventing war, or even rebellion, was the highest priority.

Eventually they would reach the little port where Zuko’s ship was stationed and from there the Fire Lord planned to split away from the group and return home – most of the public outrage and uprising was in the Earth Kingdom, and now that Zuko knew that his uncle was okay he was in far less of a hurry to return home.

He was also being far friendlier to Aang and Katara than he had the night before – after they’d saddled up he’d ridden over to them and asked Katara to look at his knee and discussed traveling plans with Aang. Katara wasn’t sure what had changed his attitude, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Mai was involved, even if no one had seen one of the pair say anymore than five words to the other.

Sokka and Toph were still sharing an ostrich horse behind her. An inn employee had found the pair dead asleep in the courtyard in the middle of the night, and if Katara hadn’t been fighting off her own headache she would have had very stern words for them. As it was, she made sure to leave a large tip for the hotel staff. She would have been slightly embarrassed about the incident if she hadn’t been feeling so relieved – it wasn’t that much of a stretch to guess why Toph had gone outside, and Katara had been in no position to help Sokka to bed herself when she’d finally left her brother the night before. It made her happy to see the pair acting like their normal selves, even if it had scandalized an entire inn full of Earth Kingdom peasants.

Aang was riding next to her this time, and when she looked up at him he must have felt her eyes on him, because he looked back at her, flashing her a half-smile before looking away again. He was still having trouble looking directly at her, and she wondered how long he would struggle with it before he could adjust yet again to a new intrusion on his life.

The previous night when she’d left Sokka and returned to the room, she’d thrown herself down onto the bed next to Aang, mumbling goodnight and not expecting any reply from him. To her surprise, he’d rolled over and returned her words, draping an arm over her waist before sniffing and propping himself up on one elbow. “Were you drinking wine?”

She had been amused by his surprise – she rarely touched the stuff, outside of a glass at dinner once in a while. “I was outside with Sokka. He got a bottle with dinner.”

He had frowned down at her, before asking hesitantly, “Are you okay? Will you be okay tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Katara’s eyebrows had creased as she’d reached up to touch Aang’s face. “I didn’t have that much. I’m fine. I can hold my alcohol.” Could she always, though? Had Aang been thinking of some other love, whom he’d had to take care of on nights like this in another life? Settling down again she had drifted off to sleep quickly, wondering how Ayano had held her wine.

Still, it wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d ever experienced with Aang. Even how they’d met had been a surreal experience – it was something that came with the territory. Katara would never hold it against him because it was simply part of who he was. Aang had wanted her to do just that; to have her give up after some new challenge presented itself.

Nothing ever turned out as she expected. She had expected a quiet life in the decimated South Pole, with the war being fought above her and eventually ended by the returning Avatar, who stayed far away from her tribe even if stories about his amazing feats traveled to them. She had expected to help Aang, to accompany him and even teach him as he faced the Fire Lord, and she had expected a lifelong friend. She had expected, once her lifelong friend turned into a lifelong love, to spend her life devoted not just to Aang but to his cause, to serving the world as he did.

Everything that had happened in the swamp had gone against her expectations, but… that was the way it happened with them. She was a waterbender. She could adapt.

Up ahead of them, Zuko was riding with his advisor, Cai looking at him in an appreciative new light. Behind her, she could hear Sokka laughing at some petty grip of Toph’s. And next to her, she could see Aang watching her out of the corner of her eye. She wondered who he was seeing before deciding it didn’t matter – it was inspired out of love for _her_.

_Maybe_, she thought, touching the betrothal necklace hanging at her neck, _once everything settles down again, we can settle down too_.

* * *

The last thing he had felt when he had lost track of the world was fire, and when his eyes snapped open again the first thing to greet him was fire. With a shout he fell backwards, attempting to get away from the flames, until he looked around and realized, truly realized, that he was alone.

He was alone and he was still in the body. The Avatars had _failed_.

With a snort of disbelief he sat up, rubbing his head, and it was then that he realized that things weren’t right. He had missed something, to be sure. The body. His body was different. When he’d closed his eyes he’d been in the body of the Avatar, a tall man, and now he had hair, and a thinner face, and… and…

Tiny, delicate hands.

Tiny, delicate hands that were on _fire_.

With a shriek – a definite, high-pitched, feminine shriek he flailed his hands to put the flames out before it suddenly struck him that he was not being burned. He couldn’t believe that it did not hurt – fire _always_ hurt.

With a blink he patted himself and made the last, most important realization of all: he was now in the body of a female firebender.

_So_, he thought with irritation, _the fates have no sense of justice but they have certainly embraced irony_.

Pushing himself up from the ground, he looked at the burning earth around him and remembered –

\- _fire, burning, all consuming fire and pain and fear and – and then there was someone who was not hurt by the fire, someone who’s mind was crying out in pain, but not because of the fire, and he had called back_ -

And then he’d woken up, in this body.

Taking a cautious step forward, he was pleased with the flames, which licked at his limbs but did nothing. A slow smile curled on his face as he took in his surroundings. Fire could no longer hurt him. Fire no longer meant fear or pain. The Avatars could not conquer him with it again.

Now… all he needed was a way out.

_   
_

* * *

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mihi Cura Futuri - My Concern is the Future


End file.
